A Life Lived Vicariously
by Tilism
Summary: Post DH. After a decade in Azkaban, Draco is angry, bitter, and lost. Fate and a special bond throw him right in the midst of Harry's family and friends. How will a conflict ridden past, the postwar realities and changed fortunes act on them all? Plz R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**A LIFE LIVED VICARIOUSLY**

This story takes place some ten years after the events in the Deathly Hallows. It disregards, though not completely, the epilogue. It contains spoilers for all the seven books. It is rated M for some scenes of brutality and depravity. The characters are those created by J.K. Rowling, I have just imagined them forward in time and in different circumstances. This story is a tribute to the genius of Rowling, though I wish Deathly Hallows had turned out to be more satisfying. It is also in honour of all other fan-fiction writers whose off-shoots of the Potter legend are absolutely riveting.

**Out of Azkaban.**

1.1

"….You can consider yourself very lucky. The Minister is a kind man. Had I been heading the Ministry, I'd have made sure that you and your type stayed in Azkaban forever. Death Eaters and their spawns." She spat out viciously, her spittle falling on his face.

Draco remained impassive. Not even a flicker of an eyelid. Father had once taught him how to set one's face in stone. "_Never reveal to the other person what you are feeling Draco. Let him be at a disadvantage_." He hadn't been good at it, not like father. But he had learnt, and in later years he had become expert at it. His insides twitched to make a swipe at this woman who had the gall to say all this to him. This woman who in his fifth year had been falling all over herself in order to win his loyalties. Fifth year! What a long time ago all that was. Part of another life…a life that had come to an end with the end of that year…he felt his chest contract and was a little surprised. Thinking of those days, when everything had been perfect, usually did not make him ache. Perhaps now that he was about to leave this hateful place forever…

"Sign over here," Umbridge's voice broke through his thoughts.

He picked up the parchment and looked it over_. Never sign anything before reading it_. His father's instructions again. As he read over the form of his release he almost laughed at the absurdity of some of the clauses. Those who were being freed from Azkaban had to sign a form stating that the conditions over here had been beneficial to them in helping to start life anew. Beneficial! He glanced at his hand where the letter **A** had been branded in his skin forever. Yes prospective employers would look at that one letter and then fall head over heels in order to recruit him. Why the pretense? Why did these people pretend to be philanthropic, out to set right some misguided souls? The Light Side indeed!

"Sign! I do not have all the time in the world." How had he ever been able to bear this voice? At one time, he had been happy to hear this voice praise him. Had done things in order to make this woman happy. But then he had done so many things in order to please others, to earn their praise. He shook himself, picked up the quill and signed at the requisite place.

"Ah! Draco Malfoy. MALFOY!" Umbridge simpered as he handed her the form. "The great house of Malfoy. Pure-blood. And now the name is where? In the toilet. A toilet no less." She looked up at him, "You know what a toilet is don't you, Malfoy. A place where people pass shit and urine…"

"And where your mind and mouth is stuck." He spoke for the first time.

She flinched as though hit in the guts. "HOW DARE YOU?" She screamed, "You despicable, rotten, slimy…" Her hair flew in all direction and the spit flew from her mouth.

"Describing yourself," he spoke in his lazy drawl, one that he had learnt from his cradle as one of his eyebrows went up, an artistic gesture that he had picked up from a teacher much later.

"YOU ..YOU," She was sputtering now. All this would have been amusing but all he felt was a need to get away from this woman and this place.

"If you are quite done being coherent," he spoke in the same bored tone, an aristocrat talking to his minion, "I think I'll be on my way."

"Careful Malfoy," she had recovered somewhat, "I might just cancel your release."

"So do it. You think it makes an iota of difference to me."

Her eyes bulged. "You do not want to be free?"

"And be bereft of your charming company," he said in his most cultured voice. Oh yes he had learnt a lot from his father and Severus.

The woman glared at him and he flashed his most charming smile. The smile that he had perfected in the mirrors of the Manor. Immediately she appeared a little discomfited. "Er," she began, cleared her throat and began again trying to be official once again. "You know, you have to report to the ministry on the 15th of every month. You cannot leave the country and," her voice held so much malicious pleasure that it was almost obscene, "you cannot perform any magic." She was on surer ground now, "How does it feel for a pure-blood to be reduced to a squib?" When he did not reply, she cackled in glee. Draco felt an urge to swipe at her again and again crushed it. A few more minutes and he would be gone.

"If you try to procure a wand it will be considered a criminal offense." He nodded. Her eyes were glittering now. Oh yes she really did believe that she had subdued him. Little did she know about what father had done when the Dark Lord had taken away his wand. But he kept his eyes blank. All that occlumency that aunt Bella had taught him had always helped him.

"You can change into your robes and leave now. But remember we will be keeping an eye on you."

"I always knew you cared," he said again in those polished tones and again her composure disappeared.

Chuckling inside, he let the guard, whom she had summoned, lead him away. It was only when, he looked at his old robes that the guard held in front of him that the chuckle died away. "Change," the guard said gruffly throwing his robes in front of him. He hated it but his hands trembled just a little as he picked them up. He fingered the singed sleeve. The flames rose before his eyes. He closed them but he could feel the burning flames everywhere.

"Hurry up. I don't have all day."

For the first time that day, his composure came near to breaking as he slid out of the prison robes and pulled his own robes over him. Later sitting in the boat that was taking him away to the mainland he felt his thoughts tumbling all over the place. The chatter of the guards washed over him as he stared at the waves and tried hard not to think, not to remember, the flames still burning.

"Here take this," the captain of the guards was handing him an old shoe.

"What for?" He realized that the boat had reached the shore.

The captain moved towards him and swiped at his cheeks with the shoe. He flinched but held his ground. The man now caressed his cheeks and then pinched them. He looked on, his eyes expressing nothing. The man now entangled his fingers in his hair and pulled him towards him, his breath hot on his face. Draco spat.

"Still proud Malfoy," the captain wiped the spit from his face, shrugged and took a step back. "The shoe is a port-key and will be activated in a few minutes. It will take you wherever you want to go." With that, he was walking back to the boat.

He watched the boat as it made its way back and the shoe started vibrating in his palm. He closed his eyes and spoke or tried to speak because though his lips formed the words no sound came from his mouth. He gulped as the images crowded in his mind. He tried once again only to fail again. With rising panic (how long will the portkey remain active?) he said the words again. Homemalfoymanorwiltshire. All jumbled up but the portkey understood because he felt that that tell tale pressure near the navel and then he was being whisked away.

1.2

Or perhaps not. Because he was nowhere near the manor. In front of him were some huge buildings, one home over the other it seemed.

"Hey mister what do you want?"

He looked around to see a middle-aged man hurrying towards him. He wore muggle-clothes. "Yes what do you want?" He repeated as he neared Draco, his eyes traveling all over him. "What is this that you are wearing?" he asked pointing at his robes. A muggle definitely.

"I am looking for Malfoy Manor." Draco said, ignoring the question.

"There is no Malfoy manor in this vicinity.

"Isn't this Wiltshire?"

"It sure is but I have never seen a Malfoy manor round here though I have been living here for the past thirty years."

Draco cursed himself. He simply was not thinking straight. How could a muggle have seen the manor anyways? The manor must be somewhere nearby. After all the words had been jumbled together.

"And why are you carrying a shoe in your hand?" The man was peering at him suspiciously. "I have never seen you round here."

"I used to live here," he replied absently when suddenly his stomach dropped away.

"What what is that?" he said pointing towards a garden of white roses, not realizing that it was with the shoe that he pointed.

"A garden of white roses, what else?" The man's voice seemed genuinely surprised.

But Draco was bounding towards the garden. His mother's garden. There could be no doubt. There in the midst of it was the fountain. A small dragon spouting out water. He had ridden on this when young. _My little dragon on a dragon_. His father's voice again. He could not breathe. The shoe fell limply from his hand as he himself sank down on the ground.

"Mister are you alright?" The muggle had followed him.

"What's happening over here?" A new voice full of authority speaking over him now.

"My Laird," the first Muggle's voice, low and deferential. "He is searching for Malfoy manor."

"Malfoy manor? Are you sure?...But why is he sitting on the ground?"

"He saw this rose garden, came running over here and collapsed."

"Young man are you not feeling well?"

He looked up and his breath caught in his throat. How could he have missed it? He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly wishing it to be not there. But it was there swaying in front of him. His faraway tree and there he was along with Vince and Greg climbing on the tree, determined to swing on the rainbow stretched over the tree, waiting for him…there was no rainbow there today.

The muggles were still talking, perhaps questioning him but their voices seemed to come from a distance. Slowly he raised his eyes to look at where his home used to be….But then other thoughts came to his mind and he needed answers to his questions quick.

"There used to be a manor here." He waved his hand towards the row of muggle houses.

The two men standing in front of him looked at each other then at him before saying No.

Then the second person, the one who had been addressed as Laird by the other one began to speak: "There was nothing over here, just plain ground when these buildings were being constructed."

"When did these buildings come up?"

"Some nine to ten years back."

Nine to ten years. Yes the Ministry had taken its revenge, the manor must have been razed to the ground. It all seemed to make sense now.

"There was..there was a cemetery and a vault over here," he gestured.

"Vault, cemetery," the muggles' voices were full of surprise. "You mean graves and all…?"

"No I mean playground for children you morons."

"This is totally improper. This is no way to talk." There was indignation in their voices now.

"Then how do you want me to talk? I ask a simple question in a language which even muggles can understand and you…

"Muggles? What's that?"

"Just answer my question, okay. Was there a cemetery over here or not and a vault?"

"No."

"No?"

"No cemetery, no vault, no manor."

"But how can this be?"

"Perhaps you are at the wrong place."

"No this is the land of the Malfoys."

"Malfoys. Never heard of them."

"How could you have?" He heard himself screech. "You despicable muggle how could you have heard of the Malfoys. You are not fit to lick their shoes…"

"That's quite enough. We have tolerated your insolence but not any longer. If you do not leave this place we will be forced to call the police."

"Police? What's that?"

"That's enough!"

"My laird, I do believe this fellow is not in his right senses. Look at the clothes that he is wearing and then he talks gibberish…"

As the muggles muttered amongst themselves, Draco looked at what was his home. The Malfoys had lived for centuries in the manor and it now it was a muggle neighbourhood. Yes, he could see them now, moving about…children and adults. If he looked at them for a moment more, he would start raving like a lunatic. No, he had to get away. Abruptly, he stood up and started to walk away not bothering about the two muggles staring at him, perhaps calling out to him….

1.3

He sat with his knees drawn up to his chin, looking and yet not looking at his own reflection in the water. His hidden pool. He remembered the day well when he had discovered this pool amongst the rocks and the brambles…and then father had charmed it so that it remained hidden from the eyes of the muggles. His own private sanctuary…

Not any longer though. He could hear voices, excited chatter of children, a group of children came traipsing down. Then things happened so fast that there was no time for reflection, only action. One of the children lost his footing and came tumbling down the small hillock. The other children screamed. With a loud splash, the child went straight down in the pond. Draco jumped right after him, his eyes scanning the water. Then he saw him, a small figure lying on the bottom of the pond. He swam over to his side and tried to scoop him up. However one arm of the child had become wedged tightly in some undergrowth. Gasping for air, Draco tried to pull the arm out. His lungs seemed ready to explode by the time he had the child in his arms. Wasting not a second more, he broke for the surface. Once on land, he looked at the child closely. There was no sign of breathing. The boy was still. There was a deep gash on his forehead, perhaps he had hit a rock while spiraling down. Draco pressed his chest and felt something more than water seep from the clothes. He pressed again, stronger this time. No response. And then Draco panicked. Without being aware of what he was doing, he started moving his hands all over the child's body, chanting the mantra all the time, all his concentration pinpointed on the small, still body underneath his hands. Finally, he could feel the chest moving underneath him and then the boy was trying to sit up… "Mamma," the young fellow cried and Draco sat back, suddenly drained of all his energy. A figure ran past him to hug the boy and there was chatter and talk all around him. He had not been aware of anything: the hysterical cries of the other children when he had brought the young man out of water, the pop of apparition as suddenly four adults apparated near him, the hysterical explanations of the other children…nothing. But now as he shifted back on the ground, he was aware of someone standing near him and then a hand was placed on his shoulder. Draco looked up slowly. A face came into focus. A man with glasses and some sort of mark on his forehead. He had seen this face somewhere….somewhere in the past. For a minute everything round him became shrouded in silence. Total, complete silence.

"Potter."

A/N: Well what do you think of this? Do send you comments, suggestions etc. It will be greatly appreciated. Reviews are tonic for a writer.

Though I am writing another story: **It Is Magic After All,** this story just wormed its way into my system and would not let go. I hope to write the two stories simultaneously.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is dedicated to **Luxa** and **Kaillinne arami**. Their appreciation gave me the encouragement to continue with the story.

**2. Old Faces and New**

For a moment, Draco closed his eyes. This could not be happening. It was nothing but a bad dream. One of the nightmares that he was so used to now. It couldn't be Potter standing in front of him. Potter was part of his past. A past that was dead and buried, it couldn't come out now, crawling out from the ground like so many worms. But there were worms on his shoulder, he could feel them creeping across. With a snarl, he flung Potter's hand off his shoulder.

"F…off Potter, I am not interested."

"What, what are you talking about?" Oh Potter was a good actor, no doubt about that. Hadn't the whole of Hogwarts been gaga over him? He sounded as though he was genuinely bewildered about what Draco was talking about.

But Draco knew better of course. People simply did not keep a hand on your shoulder just like that.

"You might be the golden boy, the boy who killed everybody and got hoards of whores; or whatever they call you nowadays but ….

"Merlin's beard," a voice spoke, cutting him short, "it is Malfoy."

Draco looked up at a red-haired, tall man who was carrying a baby in his arms, with matching hair. Of course how could precious Potter be anywhere without his lackey?

"Malfoy? You mean Malfoy as in Draco Malfoy…" Stooping down, Potter peered at him.

"No Potter," he sneered right in his face, "as in the ghost of Malfoy."

One of the children shrieked, a little girl, and he growled, "And the ghost particularly likes to eat the heart of young girls."

The girl shrieked again, rushing towards Potter who picked her up and said angrily, "Shut up Malfoy. It is not funny."

Something seemed to catch in Draco's throat. Once, around the time he had started sleeping on his own, he had awoke one night to see a huge dark shape outside his window raising its arm in a most threatening manner. All the story of trolls that he had heard had come crashing in his mind and he had screamed and screamed. It was only when his father cradled him in his arms that he had finally ceased screaming. Father had taken him outside, and in the moonlight shown him the troll: nothing but a harmless tree swaying in the wind.

Without another word he got up from the ground, eager to walk away from them all.

"Wait a minute, Malfoy, you are not getting away till you tell us what you have done to Albus." Weasel was blocking his way.

"I don't have to tell you anything Weasel, so just get out of my way." He snarled back. The Weasel had always been tall but he was pleased to see that he was almost face to face with him. So he had grown tall too.

"Ron uncle," one of the children (Salazar how many of them were there! Perhaps soon the world would have nobody else but a Weasel or a Potter) spoke up then, "he pulled Albus out of the pond."

"Are you sure Teddy?" The Weasel's eyes had grown big as he looked between him and the boy who had spoken.

"Yes uncle," the boy nodded and then breathlessly launched into the narrative. "We were racing down the slope, when suddenly Albus lost his footing. He tumbled down before any of us could stop him. We tried, we really did. But he kept rolling down. And then he just fell with a splash in the pond and then and then he - (Here the boy pointed at him. Draco grimaced. Trust the Weasel not to teach any etiquette to his brood) – jumped and emerged with Albus…"Here the boy, perhaps overcome with it all, took a pause.

Immediately another boy, younger than the first one took up the narrative. "Albus was not moving and then he did something, sang a song…"

"Sang a song?" Weasel's voice rose several octaves.

"Yes," the first boy continued, apparently having recovered his breath. "He moved his hands all over Albus' body while singing something all the time. It seemed like one of the songs… you know …that aunt Ginny sings for Lily."

"A lullaby?!" The Weasel's jaw seemed to touch the ground. "It can't be!" He brought his face near and said, "What dark magic did you use on Albus?"

"It wasn't dark magic, Ron," a voice spoke up and Draco gritted his teeth. How could it be otherwise? The third of the golden trio had to be here too.

"How can you tell Hermione?" Weasel was still blocking his way.

"I think the charm that Malfoy used was the _vaatsalay_ charm. It is..."

"Which charm?" Weasel again, still blocking his way. Irritation flared up in Draco. Damn them all. "Now listen," he shouted at Weasel, "I don't have all the time in the world to stand over here. Your brat is safe and sound. Just get out of my way."

"Not till we have it all figured out." Another female voice now. He turned and looked. A woman was holding the boy whom he had brought out, her hair as red as the Weasel. Oh the Weaselette no doubt.

"You must be out of your mind if you think I will stand over here listening to blood-traitors and mudbloods."

"Don't you dare call her that you swine," the Weasel was twisting the front of his robes.

"Or else what will you do?" He spat and pushed his hands away. But even as his hands touched those of Weasel's, he felt the warm liquid on them. The Weasel made a strangled noise, "Malfoy, that's blood!" Draco turned away_. His mother was holding him tight, not bothering about the blood that ran down her arms. "My Dragon," she whispered over and over again as he snuggled closer to her, crying and whimpering. Draco shut his eyes, he will not think of his mother, not think about her bloody red arms._

"The _vaatsalay_, no doubt," the Mudblood once again, this time her voice very close to his ears. The next minute somebody held his hands and opening his eyes, he yanked his hands away. "Don't you ever touch me, you filthy mudblood." The very next instant somebody backhanded him, forcefully. Even as Draco staggered back, the young boy in the Weaselette's arm started crying at the top of his voice. Draco froze even as the others moved towards the crying boy trying to pacify him.

"What is going on over here?" He heard the Weaselette ask, over the crying of the young boy. "Hermione can you please explain. What is this charm that you are talking about?"

"Very briefly," he heard the mudblood reply, "Malfoy has used a charm over Albus that has bonded the two together…" There was a collective gasp…

"_How dare you try to heal your son without my permission?" The Dark Lord's voice, cold and sibilant rose in his ears. His mother did not reply though she shivered and shook._

"_You Malfoys have become totally insolent. You need a lesson in obedience." The Dark Lord hissed and waved his wand. Even as Narcissa screamed and fell to the ground, Draco felt as though his skin was being flayed… _

"Malfoy….Malfoy…" He looked up. Why was his mother addressing him thus? And what had happened to her. Since when had her hair become so bushy? He blinked his eyes. His mother writhing in pain in front of him disappeared. "Malfoy you are to come with us, we are portkeying back." It was the mudblood.

"Come with you? Do I look crazy to you?" Draco almost blanched.

"You know, with this charm, the bond that you have created, you cannot stay far from Albus."

"That is your problem, not mine."

"How can you say something like this?"

"Listen," he said, suddenly tired of this all, "the young fellow was not even breathing so I automatically incantated the charm. Had I known, the problem that it would cause, I would not have done it."

"But now that it is done, surely you cannot leave him just like this. You know very well that in this sort of bonding, the physical distance matters a lot initially. You have to be near him, any sort of distance between the two of you will endanger his life."

"Well that is his luck and your problem. I am not staying anywhere near you all. Wish I had just left him to drown." He heard the gasp of the others and then Weasel spoke in an ugly voice, "I'll petrify you, if you take another step away."

"Why don't you try Weasel and see for yourself?" He said in his most mocking manner. "Didn't the mudblood tell you?" He sneered as the Weasel turned pale.

"Oh why are we even asking him?" The Weaselette spoke now, her eyes hard and voice even harder. "He is a Malfoy. Despicable and disgusting all of them. His father could use a child for his twisted purposes and I am sure he too will use Albus like that."

"Right ho, Weaselette," he barked, turning on his heel.

"You owe me a life-debt." Draco went totally stiff, his foot still raised in mid-air. Flames rose round him. Somewhere in those flames, Vince screamed. Slowly, he brought his foot down and turned back to stare at Potter.

"You owe me a life-debt," Potter repeated. "And now for the sake of my son, I want you to come with us."

"And you think I'll honour it? Draco asked.

"If you are a true wizard you will."

"Even if I do, I don't owe your son anything."

"For me the life of my son is my life."

"Perhaps to you, not to me."

"Your mother betrayed Voldemort because of her love for you. Surely you can understand a love that a parent has for his or her child."

A sudden coldness descended on Draco. Till now he hadn't realized that his robes were soaking wet. A shiver rose in his body. He clutched his arm convulsively, lest he start trembling. His arm was bloody. He was losing blood and fast, no wonder everything seemed to be swaying. He would have fallen down had Potter not caught hold of his arm. "Hermione, the healing spell," he heard Potter say. The mudblood waved her wand on his arms and flow of blood ceased.

"I think we should all head home now," Potter said.

With a start, Draco realized that Potter was still holding his arm. With an effort, he pulled his arm away. The Weaselette handed over the young boy to Potter and took out a rod from her robes. "Now James hold my hand," she instructed as the portkey became activated and the others crowded round it. Draco felt eyes on him. Violently, he clutched at the rod. Soon enough there was the tell-tale pressure near his naval as for the second time that day he was whisked away…..


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: THE BOND EXPLAINED

3.1

Draco's head was still a little woozy and his feet a little unsteady as they all finally reached their destination. It wasn't surprising though; after all he had been traveling a lot today.

"Sit down Malfoy," Potter's voice came to him through the incessant chatter. Everybody in the room seemed to be speaking all at once.

However, as soon as he sank down on the floor, a silence seemed to fall over them. It was as if all of them stopped talking at the same time. Sensing everybody's gaze on him, he looked up.

"Er Malfoy take a chair." Potter was looking at him strangely.

Flushing inwardly, Draco rose and moved towards one of the chairs. Merlin, so many years in that small, stinking cell had really done him in. His cell in Azkaban, had no piece of furniture, nothing to sit on. Just the hard floor. And when led out, he had to stand constantly in the presence of Aurors, officers, and guards. The cushioned comfort of the chair under him now seemed unfamiliar. Sitting ramrod straight, he looked around., and then wished he hadn't. The room seemed to be dyed in maroon and gold. Right from the walls to the furniture, everything seemed to be in a shade of maroon with a gold border. He almost puked. Salazar, these Gryffindors were more tacky than he ever thought possible. But then what else could one expect from them anyways? A muggle-born; a muggle brought-up; and two muggle-lovers brought up in a burrow. Apt name for their dwelling though, the way the weasels procreated. And the younger generation was no better, he mused, as his eyes moved towards the right corner where children of all shapes and sizes and colours were cowering. The weaselette was towering over them all, her face all aflame.

"Now what did we tell you when we took you out today?" Her voice, hard and grating, filled the room.

"ANSWER ME," she thundered, as the children shuffled and murmured.

"Did we not tell you not to go off on your own?" She waited for them to nod before continuing, "And what did you do. You all set off on your own. And what happened? Her voice rose higher as she repeated, "And what happened? What happened is that Albus almost died…."

There were terrified squeaks as the children seemed to wail and speak at once, "No, never…..We did not think……Is he alright?...Please we are so sorry……..Mom please we are sorry…….So sorry, aunt, it is all my fault……We were simply playing we never thought……

"And you Teddy," she said, turning towards the tallest of them all, "I thought you were responsible enough. But now it turns out I was mistaken, wasn't I?

"I….I am sorry aunt Ginny, I was simply not thinking." The boy shuffled his feet and added tearfully, "I will never do such a thing again. I am really sorry." He wiped his nose. "Really, really sorry. Please I never thought Albus…." He gulped, "Ple….please don't be an…ang….angry…."

The Weasel, cleared his throat and said, "Er Ginny, I think they are really sorry."

"And what would their damn sorry have done had we lost Albus today?" The weaselette turned towards her brother, her eyes flashing and voice furious. No, not the weaselette, Draco mentally corrected himself. Not a weaselette any longer. Definitely, a full-fledged She-Weasel.

"Relax, Gin," Potter who had moved towards her, put his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Her body taut with tension till now seemed to relax as she bent backwards in his arms. Draco looked away. On the other side of the room, the mudblood seemed to be casting some sort of charms on the young boy's body as he lay on the couch, along with the red-haired baby. He watched intently as with each wave of her wand, a light seemed to emanate from the young boy's body. The mudblood, seemingly oblivious of everything else happening round her, sagely nodded her head at regular intervals.

The pitter-patter of feet made him look towards the corner again. Potter was heralding the children out of the room. The She-weasel flopped down on a sofa and said, "Ron give me something strong."

"Fire-whisky?" Her brother asked and Draco felt like puking again. Fire-whisky, how absolutely plebian. His father would have died had even a single bottle of that drink ever made its way to the manor.

The she-weasel, of course, seemed to have no problem, as she sipped the drink.

The mudblood spoke now, "I will also like to have one."

"Do you think you should be having one in your condition?" The weasel asked. _Condition_? What was wrong with her?

"Just a small one Ron, please." Then she quaffed the glass that the weasel handed her at one go. Draco's eyebrow shot up. Now this was interesting. The weasel seemed dumbfounded. "Easy Mione." Well. Well. Well. He had never pegged her to be an alcoholic but there it was right in front of him. Draco felt her watching him and he gave her his best sneer. She shifted her eyes away, her face contemplative.

"Well Hermione, perhaps now you can tell us something of that charm in some detail." The she-weasel spoke now.

"Let Harry return," the other woman spoke shortly. She still seemed in a contemplative mood and Draco again found her glancing at him. Was she trying legilimency? Fat chance, she would have. Azkaban had taught him not to bring down the walls even for a moment. Nevertheless, he concentrated hard and strengthened the walls of his mind. The weasel he realised had surreptitiously taken out his wand.

Potter entered the room after some time and went straight to the young boy sleeping peacefully on the couch. "Is he alright?" He asked the mudblood who nodded in return, still looking a little lost in thoughts. Then abruptly she asked, "Are the kids alright?"

Kids? Draco thought hard. What was that, some sort of a newspeak?

Potter was shaking his head in the negative though. "Still anxious and scared. I gave them butterbeer and …"

"You gave them butterbeer!!!"

"Oh Gin, don't sound so affronted. They are pretty shaken up by all this. It was all that I could do to calm them down a little. Then I asked Teddy to take care."

"Humph."

"Come on Gin," there was a slight edge to Potter's voice now. "He is very young, he made a mistake…."

"Spoiled rotten that's what he is. And no wonder with that grandmother of his."

"I think we are getting away from the issue at hand." Weasel spoke up.

"Yes, Hermione now perhaps you can tell us about the charm and bond now that Harry has returned." The She-weasel sounded a bit miffed. Then turning towards her brother, she added, "And get me another glass."

"Would you like one too, Harry?" The weasel asked as he took away her glass and moved towards the bottle.

"Yes, that will be nice," Potter replied before looking up at him and asking, "What about you Malfoy?"

Two things occurred to Draco simultaneously. One that from the moment Potter had mentioned butterbeer, he had felt thirsty. And second, Azkaban had totally destroyed his sense of proper etiquettes. Looking at the others drinking, without offering him any, had not made him feel insulted. In fact, he had taken it in a matter of fact way. There the officers and aurors, and guards had taunted the prisoners by having feasts in front of them and throwing food items and drinks on the floor, which later the prisoners had been asked to gobble/ lick/ wipe from the floor. Still disoriented from the mental image that rose in his mind at this recollection, he replied honestly. "A butterbeer would be fine."

The Weasel almost choked over his drink. "Butterbeer! Butterbeer!!!"

Trying to cover his embarrassment, Draco spoke fast. "Why should I have asked for Chartreuse Elixir?"

"Chart…what?" The weasel fumbled and Draco tskd tskd in his most patronising manner. "Don't worry too much about it. After all in impoverished circumstances, one hardly gets to know about the finer things of life."

"The finer things of life include licking a mad-man's arse." Potter's voice was contemptuous, even as the weasel sputtered over his drink and his sister glared at him.

But Draco had heard all this for a decade and more, he could not be that easily ruffled. "Wonderful Potter, you seemed to have appreciated the finer things of life. Now tell me, he leaned forward, conspiratoly, " what did Dumbledore's arse taste like?"

A ringing silence greeted his question and then with a howl of outrage, the three of them lunged forward at him. "STOP IT! STOP IT!!" The mudblood had thrown herself between them, her arms outstretched, restraining them.

"Hermione stand aside."

"Will you stop it, all of you. Albus almost died today and you…you …. Squabbling…. Quarrelling…. Just stop it." By the end of it she sounded exhausted.

"Died?" Potter's voice was hardly more than a whisper as he stood stunned. "Mione just explain what happened today."

"And please in terms easy to understand," the weasel said laying a hand on his sister's shoulder as she went completely white.

"I will. But first I think we all need to sit down."

At the last moment, Draco realised that he was not supposed to sit on the floor. Tentatively, he perched on the edge of his chair.

Taking a deep breath, the mudblood began, "As far as the diagnostic charms show, rolling down the hill and then falling in the pond caused Albus grievous internal injuries. His internal organs were damaged and punctured and he lost a lot of blood…"

The she-weasel gave a gasp and cradled the still sleeping boy in her arms. "Why didn't you say so earlier? He should be in St. Mungo, for Merlin's sake!"

"There is no need for that. He is completely fine now." The mudblood paused and looked at him. "Thanks to Malfoy."

At once three pairs of eyes fixed themselves on him. Shocked. Incredulous. Disbelieving. He pasted his best sneer on his face.

"He used a healing technique, a healing charm to be precise." She continued after a few moments of silence and the three heads turned towards her again.

"You mentioned something about a charm." The weasel said.

"Yes the _vaatsalay_. "It is an eastern form of magic." Her way of speaking reminding Draco of someone. "As the name indicates it is a bond of love and affection. More specifically the love and affection between a child and his/her parents. It is used as a healing charm by the parents if their child gets hurt. And when I say hurt, it means being grievously injured. The healing power depends upon the love that parents have for their kids…"

"But then how can this be?" the She weasel interrupted her. "How could Malfoy," and here she gave him a look full of loathing, "cast this charm? As you said it is between parents and their children."

"It is rare for a stranger to cast this charm on another's child, but not unknown. It depends upon the affection and concern that that person feels for the child at that particular point."

Silence again descended on them all. Again he felt their gazes on him. Try as he might, he could not stop the colour from rising in his cheeks. Trust a Gryffindor to turn everything mishy-mashy. A moment of panic had been turned into affection and concern. Ugh.

"I must say I was as dumbfounded as you all are." The mudblood remarked after the silence seemed to stretch on and on…

"How come we haven't been told anything about this? Every parent should know about this." Potter sounded bewildered.

"Harry, it is a difficult charm to master. First of all, it involves highly skilled use of the hands since it is a wandless charm. Secondly, the incantation, a sort of a mantra takes time to be mastered properly. As it is an eastern charm it is not that well known in the western world. And then, the healing powers of the charm cannot be pre-meditated. You cannot simply decide that if your child gets hurt, you will use this charm and heal him or her. No, it works impromptu. In the panic of the moment when the child is virtually lying lifeless in front of his parent, the powers have to come rushing to the hands of the parent and then transform into healing as they enter the child's body. The key element at that time is the overwhelming concern and love for the child."

"And which parent will not have it, in such a situation." It was not really a question and Potter's voice was full of pain as he uttered these words. Draco shut his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he heard the mudblood begin again and opened his eyes. "There is another complication to it. The charm bonds the caster and the child on whom it is cast. They are able to feel each other's physical pain and discomfort. For instance when today you slapped Malfoy," she said turning towards her husband, " you saw how Albus reacted? He started crying because he felt the pain."

The weasel, Draco noted with satisfaction had a guilty look on his face as he shuffled his feet. "I didn't know. Had no idea."

"I am not accusing you, Ron but you know why I stopped all of you from lunging at him right now because whatever you do to Malfoy now will hurt Albus."

Draco could hardly stop laughter from bubbling out of him. Oh the looks on their faces were priceless. He felt suddenly heady with power. The things that he could do. The possibilities were endless.

"There must be some way to break this bond surely." The She weasel spoke in a strangled voice.

"There is but again it is very complicated. And only a most perfect practitioner can undo it."

"Surely, surely, the person who casts the spell can undo it. Malfoy in this instance."

"No." the mudblood sighed. "Actually I also do not know the finer details of this spell but…"

"Lets just ask him." The she weasel growled turning towards him. "After all he cast it in the first place. So Malfoy tell us how to undo this spell."

When he remained silent, she repeated, gritting her teeth, "I asked you something."

He leaned back in the chair languidly.

"MALFOY." It was her brother now.

He gave a blank stare. Insides he whooped and shouted. "Yes?"

"She asked you a question."

"So."

"So you better answer it."

"Is that a threat weasel?"

"Yes," the weasel shouted.

"Really?" He said carelessly. "What are you threatening me with? What will you do?"

"I…I…" The weasel spluttered, red in face.

"Ah I see. Still as coherent as before." Insides he turned cartwheels.

"That's enough." Potter shouted, his eyes blazing. He came towards him. "Do you think this is some kind of a joke."

"No I don't." He replied in an equally hard voice.

"Then why don't you tell us about the spell?"

"Well Potter you see I do not take orders from anybody. Much less from Blood Traitors."

"You." The weasel shouted lunging at him but Potter stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Okay Malfoy. Please do tell me about the spell and how to undo it. Please."

"Well cannot turn down a plea from the chosen one, can I. Though I can ask you to go on your knees." The colour blanched from their faces but Draco could not savour this small moment of victory because an image of his father on his knees rose in front of his eyes. All at once all this gloating seemed mean.

"It is like what she told you," he said turning away from them all. Even the word mudblood did not rise to his lips. "And yes only somebody well versed in this should attempt to undo the bond. Any amateur attempt can cause a lot of pain to both the persons bonded together. And even professionals are hard to find as undoing the bond causes him a lot of pain. Even his magical ability might be hampered." His father writhed in pain in front of him. Draco shut his eyes resolutely. He will not think of his father. All that was over.

"That means you will be bonded for ever?"

"No. With time the bond will become weak and finally release both parties." His father was still there in front of him. It was over. Over. And yet…

"How long?"

"I do not know." He was exhausted. "Believe me, I had not anticipated all this. I do not like this any more than you all."

"Tomorrow I will go and see whether I can get an expert who can undo the bond." Mudblood spoke now. "Malfoy do you know of anybody?"

He tried to speak but all he could do was to shake his head in the negative. Father please go away. Please.

"What do we do now?" The weasel asked perplexed.

"For the time being, I think, Malfoy has to stay over here. Near Albus."

"Here? Near Albus?" The she-weasel sounded both shocked and indignant.

They got into an animated conversation but he was no longer listening to them. How could he have forgotten something so elementary? Salazar all the portraits in the Manor's hallway were shaking their heads sadly, their blonde hair moving to and fro. Even his father was giving him the eye. Suddenly, father was no longer writhing but kneeling in front of the portraits, his head bowed. But this was another area he did not want to venture into. Resolutely he shook his head and fobbed off the mental image. But yes he had to think of the breach in his etiquettes. True he hated these people. True he did not ever even dream that one day he would be in their house. But the fact of the matter was that he was. And he will have to stay too. Eat and sleep over here, under their roof. He broke out in sweat as he recalled that he had almost got a butterbeer. Thanks Salazar he had not got it. Otherwise he would have accepted something from his hosts before showing his appreciation.

He had to present the ladies of the house something. Gorge rose in his mouth as he thought of the said _ladies_. But he was a Malfoy and a Pureblooded wizard simply did not accept a host's hospitality before showing his pleasure at being received at their house. Generations of Malfoy were never going to forgive him for this oversight. His grandfather peered out of the portrait looking at him balefully, now turning towards his father to ask him whether he had taught nothing of Pureblood customs and traditions to his scion.

But now a second problem presented itself. What was he to gift them? Except for the robes on his body he had nothing. His father had always carried expensive gifts usually made of precious gems. And today, Salazar help him, he had nothing. He groped round in his pocket but all he found were some blades of grass sticking on to his robes. Hum…he could transfigure these to bouquets of flowers. But then they will come to know of his ability to do wandless magic? Perhaps they already did, the way he had healed the young fellow. He was making no sense. Even if they did, they would not complain to the Ministry because if he was hauled off to Azkaban then that young fellow would have to accompany him too. And they would not dare to do so. Merlin all these ifs and buts and images, he was mentally and physically tired now. _Vaatsalay_ was an exhausting procedure. So flowers it would be. Lilies for the she-weasel since she was the wife of Potter. Yes red lilies. And, well roses for the mudblood. But not white ones. Well pink would have to do.

He put his hand in the pocket once more and clutched the blades of grass. Surreptitiously he incanted the charm. He could feel the blooms now.

"Malfoy, Malfoy are you listening?" Potter's voice. Apparently, their discussion had ended.

"Yes, what is it?" He asked startled.

"You will have to stay over here."

Draco rolled his eyes. Talk about being dense. Tell these Gryffindors all tales of Beedle the bard and at the end of it they will say: "But who was Beedle the Bard?"

"Okay. But there are a couple of conditions. First I don't take any orders from mudbloods, halfbloods, and blood traitors."

"Agreed." Potter hissed.

"And second, nobody badmouths my family."

"Agreed again. Anything else."

"I will let you know in due course."

Abruptly he got up and walked across to where the two women were. They fell silent and looked up at him. He took out the bouquets. Yes the flowers were lovely. Hating it and yet compelled to do it, he presented the bouquets to them. "May the home that is nurtured by your love remain in a bloom, today and always." He handed them the respective bouquets, not daring to look them in the eye. What will he see over there? Disdain because it was only flowers that he could offer.

"Thank you." The mudblood spoke first, her voice breaking the curious silence that seemed to have descended on the room. He looked up then and was surprised to see her looking at him intently. No contemptuous curl of the lips. He bowed his head a little.

"Let me see your arms," she continued.

"They are healed properly," he replied.

"But still…"

"I am fine," he snapped.

She did not insist anymore but instead said, "I think you should rest now. You must be exhausted."

He wanted to protest but more than that he wanted to get away from them all. Without a murmur, he followed Potter who held the child in his arms.

3.2

"We will be sharing this room," Potter said, laying down the still sleeping child on to one of the two beds in the room.

"I want to take a bath. Where is the bathroom?"

Potter pointed to a door in the room but then said tentatively, "Is it okay if you leave Albus like this? Even this distance might discomfort him."

He snorted. "Well Potter if you think I am taking your son with me inside the bathroom, you are mistaken."

"Okay you go. In case Albus shows any sign of discomfort, I'll bring the bed closer to the bathroom."

"Whatever," he shrugged.

"The switches are on the left side."

"Switches?"

"Yes. Oh…. Here I'll show you." Potter made his way towards the door, opened it and pressed something on the left wall. Immediately light filled the room.

Draco was impressed. "Is this a special kind of wand which produces lumos?"

"No it is electricity." Potter looked amused.

"What?"

"Muggle technology."

"Oh." Shrugging disdainfully, he entered the bathroom and almost gasped out aloud. His own image looked out at him from a life-sized mirror in front of him. Salazar was he a mess. Slowly he stepped out of his clothes. His entire body was criss-crossed with marks. Some grey with age, some red with anger, some blue with cold. Successive men and women using his body as a canvas to paint their own passion on it: brutal lust, sadistic pleasure, mind numbing violence. But then he could not complain, could he? After all, he was the one who had first marked his unblemished skin. Raising his arm, he looked at the mark. Branded forever in his skin, the mark of slavery.

But no he was not going to think about it. Of the boy filled with pride for having been granted such an honour. Too young to know that with that one acceptance he had destroyed everything. With a violent moment, he got into the tub. As his body immersed in the water, he shut out all his thoughts.

Harry looked at his son, sleeping peacefully at his side. How innocent and trusting he looked. He remembered when the medi-nurse had handed him the small bundle. It wasn't the first time, of course. But while Ginny had not been troubled at the time of James' birth, Albus' had been a difficulty pregnancy and an even more difficult birth. He had clutched the tiny form to his chest, feeling the heart throbbing within. His own heart or that of Albus? Difficult to tell. And now he had almost lost him! Something cold twisted his insides. It was so easy to lose a loved one. Sirius falling behind the veil…He shuddered. Why should that vision rise now? Bellatrix's face twisted with demonical laughter. Just the other day, he had tried to think of her and had been able to conjure only a hazy outline but now she was there before him in all details as her hooded eyes sparkled in vicious glee.

Almost involuntarily, he clutched Albus' hand. The boy twitched. Harry held his breath. What was Malfoy doing? Why was he taking such a long time? Perhaps even this little distance would cause trouble to Albus. But Albus continued to sleep and Harry let out his breath in relief. How incredible was life sometimes. His son was now bonded to Malfoy! Malfoy of all people! He had not even recognized Malfoy. Last he had seen him was in the hall of Hogwarts, the three blonde heads together. Of course there had been something about them somedays later in the Daily Prophet, but Harry had been so flushed with victory that he hadn't paid any attention. After the killing of Voldemort, he had experienced a kind of freedom that he hadn't ever experienced before. The relieving of tension, the euphoria of triumph had pushed everything else to the background. He had all but forgotten about Malfoy when he had to burst in his life like this again.

Wonder how Ron had been able to recognise Malfoy in the first place. This man bore little resemblance to the boy whom he had endured for six years in school. Thin to the point of being emancipated, the robe that he was wearing seemed to hang all over him, the face gaunt and pale. Of course he had been pale right from the beginning but one the paleness was a ghostly pallor. The colour of a man who had not seen the sun for ages. Azkaban, of course, Harry nodded to himself. The letter A stamped on Malfoy's hand testified to his imprisonment. But when had he gone to Azkaban? If it was soon after Voldemore's death then that would make Malfoy eighteen perhaps. A tremble ran down Harry's spine. Eighteen. That was the age when he had finally been free. A new beginning for him. When life had suddenly opened before him in all its glorious possibilities. And Malfoy, had he been condemned to a cell at the same age? Well he deserved it, didn't he? After all he had been a nasty piece of work. And by the looks of it, he hadn't changed at all. The same supercilious air, the same drawling voice, the same blood fetish, the abuses, the ridiculing of somebody's poverty. Harry shrugged. Well what else was to be expected anyways, his father was such a despicable man and his aunt was the female version of Voldemort. Evil. That's what the family was.

And yet, Harry continued with his inner argument, the same man had saved his son's life. Could there be any irony greater then this? He sighed. Whatever had happened made no sense. He looked at Albus again. Would Malfoy try to harm him now that he had this strange kind of bond with him? But it would hurt Malfoy too if he tried anything like that. Merlin, it was so complicated. And how had Malfoy been able to manage it in the first place? He did not even know Albus and yet he had been concerned enough to save a young kid. He had not even bothered about the ill effects on himself. Malfoy's bloody hands rose before his eyes. Yes Malfoy had lost a lot of blood and yet….

Harry's musings were cut short as Malfoy emerged from the bathroom. Yes it was clear how Ron had been able to recognise Malfoy. There were only two people in the world with that particular shade of hair. Though the hair looked rough and needed a proper cutting, the colour was still the same: a silver that seemed to glow in the darkness. Harry realized that he had been staring at Malfoy all this while. Surely there would be some smart-ass comment from Malfoy. But Malfoy did not say anything. He lay down on his bed and pulled the sheet over himself, covering himself fully.

Harry was nonplussed. Belatedly, he realised that he had not offered Malfoy anything to eat or drink. Harry flushed as he remembered Malfoy giving those bouquets to Gin and Mione. What was he supposed to do now? Offer him dinner? Wish him good night. That was laughable. Switch off the lights. But he did not want to lie in the darkness with Malfoy just a few feet away. Perhaps he would do nothing to Albus, the two of them being bonded in such a way. But he might try and harm him. Well there was nothing to do but to keep a vigil.

On the other bed, Draco held himself tightly, controlling even his breathing. What if Potter noxed the muggle lumos? Will he grope him in the darkness? After all he had kept his hand on his shoulder and then later grasped his arms. Those actions must have been a prelude to something more. One thing was sure if Potter decided to do something like that he will walk out of the house, life debt or no life debt. Even from under the sheet he could feel Potter's gaze on him…..

"You know you make a good looking Death Eater," the air round him whispered. Draco almost screamed out aloud. He shut his eyes tightly. A hand slapped his cheek, hard. Before he could react, a mouth pressed firmly on his lips cutting his scream short. He brought his arms forward and pushed, only to have his arms entangled in the sheet. He peered out of the sheet and glanced about, trying to control his breath. Potter was lying down on the other bed, an arm round his son. Apparently he had dozed off. Suddenly a thought struck him which made him almost laugh aloud. Of course, Potter would hardly do anything bad to him. If he hurt him, he would hurt his son! Oh yes! Filled with euphoria, he looked around, there was nobody else in the room, but the room was vast, too vast for comfort. Happiness died within him. A lot of ghosts could fill in that room. He fidgeted uneasily. The mattress under him was too lumpy. The next moment, he rolled off the bed and under the bed. Yes this was much better. Still absolutely silent, he pulled off the sheet from the bed above and snucked under it. Stealthily, he cast the silencing charm. Now even if he had a nightmare again, his screams would not humiliate in front of others. Finally, he was able to relax and shut his eyes. If only father was there to put an arm round him…..

3.3

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU ARE SLEEPING, SLEEPING!!"

Draco had become aware of her presence the second she had entered the room but still he hadn't been prepared for the way she was shouting right now.

"Gin," he heard Potter speak, his voice placating. "I don't know, I must have dozed off…"

"DOZED OFF! WITH THAT MAN IN THE ROOM! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP A GUARD!"

Sound of running footsteps in the corridor "What is the matter? Is anything wrong?"

"RON CAN YOU BELIEVE HARRY WAS SLEEPING! ANYTHING MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO ALBUS…"

"That is enough Ginny," Potter snapped cutting her short. "Do you think I will lie anything happen to Albus? I warded our bed so that nobody could approach it. Not only that, I even warded the room's entrance. Nobody can leave this room and only the three of you can enter it. Even if Malfoy have wanted it, he would not have been able to harm anyone. So there."

"Is Albus fine?" The mudblood's voice now.

There was a moment of silence and then Potter's voice again. "He seems to be sleeping peacefully."

"HOW CAN HE BE SLEEPING PEACEFULLY? HE SHOULD HAVE WOKEN UP BY NOW."

"Relax Ginny. When I cast the diagnostic charms on him, I also made him sleep. He will not wake up till morning." A startled pause and then "….But where is Malfoy?"

A collective gasp as the weasel spoke up. "Yes where is Ferret face? Harry you said that nobody could leave this room."

"HAS HE GONE ? I SWEAR IF HE TRIES TO HARM THE OTHER KIDS THEN I…

"I think he must be in the loo, since Albus is not in any discomfort that means he must be nearby. Ron just knock and see."

Loo! Draco mused, what was that? Anyways this was fast becoming a farce. With a shrug, he emerged from under the bed.

The four faces in front of him fell open. The mudblood was the first to recover her composure. "What were you doing under the bed?"

"Having hot sex."

"WHAT?"

"Sleeping. What else for Merlin's sake? With such music in the room who cannot but sleep blissfully?"

"But why under the bed?"

"All that matters is that I should be near the child, isn't it? It doesn't matter whether I am on the bed or on the ground."

"But the floor must be cold." Potter spoke up.

"Do not worry. This will not cause any discomfort to your son."

"I was not thinking merely of Albus."

In the silence that followed, Draco sat down abruptly on the bed.

"I think we should all go back to sleep. It has been an exhausting day." The mudblood spoke decisively. "Harry if you would just lower the wands then the three of us would leave."

"I want to stay over here."

"Gin we have already discussed this. Do not worry about Albus. You be with Lily." Potter gave his wife a reassuring squeeze. Then he made some elaborate motions with his wand. Something sparked near the door and then the three of them passed over. Draco picked up the sheet from the ground. He lay on the bed and with a finality of movements pulled it, covering himself fully.

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A/N: Thanx **Daedul** for your words of encouragement. Thanx **Kaillinne arami** and **Random laughter** for liking Draco.

Suggestions, comments, reviews all welcome.


	4. Chapter 4: Sun in My Palm

**Chapter 4: Sun In My Palm**

**4.1**

The sounds made Draco unwound a little. All this time, he had held himself tight, curling into his own body, ready to spring at anyone and anything. The sounds seemed familiar, like something heard long ago and then not quite forgotten.. Should he take a peek outside, see where those notes were emanating from? Something pleasant, a kind of joy, knocked at his thoughts. Whatever it was, it had definitely filled him with happiness at one point of time.

He peeked out. Rays of light, hesitant, tremulous made their way inside the room. He looked at the window. Outside a pleasant glow, as the sunrays tried to disperse the night.

The birds twittering and chirping, heralding in a new day. Draco got up and softly padded towards the window. The rays caressed his face. They played with his hair, they kissed his lashes, they ran playfully across his lips, they tickled his chin, they whispered in his ears. Draco gulped. With infinite softness, they moved downwards towards his body. Draco shivered. It had been ages since someone had treated his body with such tenderness. Slowly, gently, the beams continued to explore his body, enveloping him in their warmth. The birds continued to sing.

Draco extended his arms outside the bars…. Only a little more… He extended his arms full-length…. Now just a little more. He stood on his toes…..Just within his grasp….the Sun in his palm…..

"MALFOY."

The birds stopped singing and the rays retreated, making him shiver in the sudden cold that descended.

"Malfoy what are you doing?"

Draco took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control the trembling that seemed to be traveling through his body. He turned around.

Potter was sitting up, his hair all tousled, staring at him from behind those glasses.

"Uncle Harry."

Draco looked towards the entrance. The tall boy was standing over there in his pajamas. Draco noted with a shock that his hair was grey.

"Teddy what are you doing over here?" Potter got up from the bed.

"I…I…could not sleep. I kept on worrying about Albus. Is…is he alright?" The boy's chin was trembling.

"He is fine, Teddy. Here have a look yourself." Potter reached the door and lowering the wards helped the boy in who immediately ran to the bed. Draco felt it a good time to slip into the bathroom.

He looked at his clenched up fist. The tremble seemed uncontrollable now. The Sun must be in his palm. He would open only a little of it and the rays will come out. And they will dispel the darkness and never would he have to live in the cold anymore. His nails were biting in his flesh. He will pry open only one finger at a time. The Sun will peek out and wink at him. And they will be friends forever.

Gingerly, he opened one of his finger…..Then another…..the Sun must be playing hide and seek with him….friends do that……he smiled…..he must be hiding and he would poke out his tongue at Draco….he laughed…..he wanted a playful friend…..then another……Sunny Boy please……then another….he was really naughty but never mind as long as he stood beside Draco, he would give him everything that he had…thumb at last…empty.

Icy hands twisted his insides. Long skeletal hands with no flesh. _You wanted to flee away_ _from us_. A cackle of madness. _Foolish, foolish boy. There is no escape_. Palsy outside, hollowness inside. Draco looked at the mirror. A snake head stared back at him. Draco rammed his fist in the mirror and was happy to see the head turn bloody. He drove his fist again.

**4.2**

Albus screamed aloud. "Albus. Albus." Harry began to shake him. God what was the matter with him? "Teddy go call aunt Hermione." Teddy who had started screaming too, rushed out. Albus' body twisted in pain.

Hermione came rushing in followed by Ron, Ginny, and Teddy.

"What..what is the matter? Oh my God!" Albus' body convulsed.

"What is wrong with him?"

"DO SOMETHING HERMIONE!"

"I cannot find what is wrong…."

"WHAT?"

"Wait a minute where is Malfoy?"

"MALFOY! WHAT HAS HE TO DO…OH MERLIN."

"HARRY WHERE IS MALFOY?"

"THE BATHROOM."

"OPEN IT."

Albus suddenly opened his eyes. "Mumma." He said, trying to climb on to Ginny's lap.

Ginny clutched him tightly and broke into tears. Hermione hushed and comforted a disconsolate Teddy. Harry looked at Ron and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "What was all this?" He whispered.

"Mumma, I am hungry." Albus said.

**4.3**

Draco knew the screams were not his. He had been screaming for so long now but the others had never heard them. Surely somebody else was screaming. He looked at his fist. Bloody hell. Whose blood was that? Suddenly, something caught in his throat. Was it Sunny boy? Could he have been hiding all this time and now been injured? He put his hand under the tap. The water turned red. Quickly, he cast the healing spells. They were not good but they would have to do now. Somewhere his brain registered that the screaming had stopped. But there was just the emptiness in his palm.

Somebody pounded on the door. Who was this ill-mannered brute who hadn't been taught how to knock? Draco yanked open the door. Predictably it was the weasel. And good that he almost fell through.

"What is it?" He snarled.

"Are you alright?"

This was new, so new that Draco was held speechless. Since when had Weasley been worried about him? He put his hands in his pockets.

"Albus suddenly started screaming, so we wondered whether you were alright."

Oh yes! Potter's prat! Salazar why had he ever used the _vaatsalay_?

The She-Weasel entered carrying a laden tray. Potter's child immediately picked up the biscuits and started eating them.

"Malfoy come and have tea."

He looked at the goodies on the tray and suddenly his heart beat so fast that he felt it would burst into a thousand pieces. The Madeleine.

"_Draco how many times I have told you not to lick the marmalade like this?"_

_He put out his tongue and licked the marmalade all the more, making slurping noises._

"_Draco!" Father now, strict and stern._

"_As a punishment now, young fellow, I'll not bake these any longer."_

"_Ah mamma!" He gave her a sloppy kiss, smearing her cheeks with the marmalade. Mother melted, the way he knew she would._

Mum would never stop baking the Madeleine or coating them with that special marmalade that she made out of the rind of grape-fruit. Always for him. She did not even take the help of the elves. And she would always coat them not with jam or cream but with that special marmalade of hers. And always he would lick the marmalade in that slurppy manner. And Hermes would bring them over to Hogwarts. Mother never stopped making them for him.

"Malfoy. Here have it." The mudblood held a cup in her hand.

He looked at her and the tray and the Madeleine. In Azkaban, there had been only two slices of stone-hard bread and a watery tea for breakfast. But it was better than this. It did not evoke memories. Mother did not stand before him, her fingers full of marmalade for him to lick from. Father did not appear before him reading the _Daily Prophet_ while sipping his tea. Hermes did not fly in to perch on his shoulder. Vince and Greg did not look at him with anticipation as he opened the packet from home.

"Malfoy."

He could not speak. He reentered the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. His face, broken and bloodied, stared at him from the mirror.

**4.4**

The slam of the door echoed loudly in the room.

"Merlin, he is still such a stuck up prat."

"I agree." Hermione replied to Ron as she placed the cup back in the tray. "Would not even accept a cup from the hands of a mudblood."

Teddy who had been dipping the biscuits in his tea looked up. "Mudblood what's that?"

The adults exchanged a wry glance before Hermione answered. "Mudblood is a derogatory term, I mean a bad word for a wizard or witch born of muggle parentage"

"Got it aunt Mione. A wizard or witch whose parents are muggles, not able to do magic, right." Teddy looked as though he wanted a pat on his back.

"Right." Harry said patting his back. Teddy beamed.

"And you are not to say this word to anyone." Ginny said, peering at Teddy closely. "It is a bad word."

"But aunt Mione just said it." Albus' voice piped in.

The four of them looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. Teddy and Albus looked at each other in bewilderment. Merlin elders were strange.

"Well," Ginny said, placing her cup, "I better get breakfast ready. Everybody would soon be here."

"So you informed everybody?" Harry asked.

"Yes. They might have a solution. I want this bond broken as soon as possible."

"Right. I'll also go and make a few enquiries." Hermione said getting up. "There might be a few wizards at Mungo's who know how to undo this bond."

"So lets get ready." Ron too stood up.

"Mum, I'll come with you." Albus said.

"Er..no Albus, you stay over here." Ginny cast a worried glance towards Harry.

"But why?" Albus whined. "I want to be with you."

"Albus stay over here. Teddy, you and I will play games."

"Which one? The Donkey and Holla?" Albus asked excitedly. 

"Yes." Harry agreed resignedly.

Ginny smiled, kissed Albus and moved out of the room.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, "Malfoy would need robes. He does not seem to have any clothes, in fact anything with him."

"That's right." Ron said. "I think my robes will fit him."

"I think so. He seems almost your height."

"Well, I think I'll just give him my maroon coloured one." Ron said with a devious smile.

"Oh Ron grow up! We are not in school any longer."

"But Gryffindor still rules, doesn't it? So there."

"I want to be in Gryffindor too." Teddy who had been following the conversation, piped in.

"As no doubt you would be." Harry said affectionately, ruffling Teddy's hair, an electric blue now.

"Well better get things done." Hermione said, moving towards the door. Ron followed her out. He returned a few minutes later though, carrying a robe in his arms. He smirked at the sight of Harry on all four on the floor with Albus atop him.

"Good luck mate." He said, before making good his escape.

**4.5**

What the hell was taking Malfoy so long? How long did a person need for his morning ablution? Harry thought miserably as he scurried around the room with Albus perched on his back and Teddy saying holla holla at the rear. Which child had invented this game?

"Faster dad," Albus said and pulled his ears. Great dad and donkey both. In fact was there any difference between the two.

"Faster dad or Teddy will catch us."

Teddy gave a blood curling cry and almost launched himself on them. Albus squealed and pounded on Harry. Harry swirled and avoided Teddy's onslaught. Where was damn Malfoy? He had been acting strangely in the morning too. Come to think of it, he hadn't heard the shower being turned on. What was he doing mooning inside? Should he knock?

"Holla" Teddy screamed and pounced. This time there was no escaping and the three of them ended up in a tangled mass.

"Well. Well. Well. Potter at my feet."

Harry adjusted his spectacles and looked up. Malfoy smirked back at him. Damn the man to hell. He had to come out at this precise moment. Dusting his robe, Harry stood up.

"Took your time." He snarled.

"Yes." Malfoy said easily shaking his head a little. "You could do with a better shampoo though."

A thousand things were on Harry's tongue. However, before he could utter even one, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the room accompanied by Ginny. The boys who had been staring at Malfoy rushed towards them and were immediately engulfed in their arms.

"Albus, Albus are you alright?" Molly Weasley's voice was full of anxiety.

"Ah granma, I am fine. Has uncle George…"

"Malfoy!" Arthur Weasley's voice cut short Albus' inquiry. He was looking at Malfoy with a look full of disgust and anger.

Draco felt a hot, burning surge of hatred. A hatred that he hadn't felt for a long long time now. Here was the man who had made his father suffer. His hands curled into fists. He wanted to bloody well pulp the man's face.

"Oh grandpa," Teddy, who too addressed Arthur and Molly like the other kids, exclaimed excitedly, "you know him. He saved Albus." Teddy looked reverentially at Malfoy, his hair turned a bubblegum pink and the nose became elongated as it quivered in excitement. It was so unexpected that it checked Draco as he was about to lunge at Arthur Weasley.

"That's strange," said Molly Weasley, dryly, "the Malfoys are the ones usually killing children."

The nails bit into Draco's flesh as he put his hands in the pockets, deep deep inside.

Albus gave a squeak and tried to hide behind Molly. Teddy looked as though he could not believe his ears. "Kill children!" He murmured incredulously, his hair all grey.

"Yes we kill them like pigs at the altar of the Dark Lord." Draco snarled, pulling his lips back.

Teddy took a step back, looking at Malfoy, horrified. "The Dark Lord. Isn't he the one whom you defeated uncle Harry?"

"Yes the same one." Ginny replied, coming forward. "Voldemort."

It was the casual way, the name was flung out that amazed Draco. So many years later, he still shuddered at the name. The skeletal hand and the snake like face were back. The hissing was everywhere. Draco tried desperately to shut out the voice, the commands, the pain, and the curses.

"Malfoy."

He kneeled down. "Yes my lord."

"Malfoy what the hell!"

"Command me, my lord."

"Malfoy what are you playing at?"

Draco realised with a shock that it was Potter who was addressing him. The Dark Lord was nowhere. He had to think fast.

"Well since your wife was singing praises of you, I thought you as the new lord would want your minions to declare their reverence to you." He got up but kept his head bowed. "Please tell me my lord how to serve you. Which child do you want?"

"MALFOY IT IS NOT FUNNY!"

"Do not be bashful my lord. I realise that in order to keep up your strength you need to drink the blood from a child's heart…."

There were squeals all around. Draco looked up. He hadn't noticed but now the other children had come in the room too along with the weasel and the mudblood. And the children were shrieking.

"Is..is it true?" "Does one need to drink blood?" "Does uncle do that?"

"Yes it is his special drink." Draco supplied the answer.

Shrieks and screams and cries filled the room. Draco contributed to the mayhem by cackling like mad.

"You have a knack of terrorising kids, isn't it?" Potter's breath was on him. "Just like your loser of a father."

Draco's fist came up fast and connected with Potter's face and Potter was lying on the ground. "Don't you ever.." He screamed. But whatever, he was going to say got lost as Weasley lunged at him and knocked him off the ground. And then there were just fists, and kicks, and screams and cries.

"ALBUS! MERLIN ALBUS!"

The whimpers of a small child filled the room. Weasley and Potter fell away from him and rushed towards the boy. Draco felt savagely triumphant. "That's it," he said, striding towards the door.

"No wait, Malfoy." Potter scrambled up and rushed toward him.

"Get out of my way."

"No..listen. I am really sorry. I should not have done this. I am really sorry."

"I too am sorry." The weasel too had come up.

"Have you had enough of behaving like schoolboys?" The mudblood's voice echoed in the room. "Fine example you three are setting before small kids. Taunts, fists, kicks….May I remind you gentlemen that we are no longer in school?"

"I am not going to listen to a lecture." Draco spat out.

"What do you think this is Malfoy? Some sort of a game. Do you realise that a young child's wellbeing depends on this? Does this give you some sort of a pleasure being so much in power?"

"Obviously it does." The she weasel glared at him as she cradled the child in her arms.

"And you two," the mudblood went on ignoring her sister-in-law and fixing her gaze on her husband and Potter, "can't you get over your school boy grudges? I think he made it very clear that he would not hear any word against his family. It was one of the conditions and you agreed to it Harry." She was now looking firmly at Potter who was squirming and looking at the ground.

"Professor McGonagall."

"What?"

" I have been wondering since yesterday." Draco said excitedly. "You you speak just like McGonagall. The way you purse your lips and put emphasis on certain words. That's just like her." He let out a small laugh. "It is pretty uncanny, you know."

A curious silence seemed to have descended on the room. Perhaps they had all forgotten.

"You remember McGonagall, don't you? Our transfiguration teacher. Come on, she was the head of your house! You cannot have forgotten her." He looked at them expectantly. Granted they were Gryffindorks but this was rich even for them.

"Thank you, Malfoy." The mudblood said, moving towards him. "I am flattered, she was my favourite teacher."

"Oh I thought it was that big, lumbering oaf."

"Don't talk about Hagrid that way!" She said but without much heat. "And now let me cast some healing spells."

Oh yes. He had forgotten about that.

**4.6**

It was strange, Harry mused sometime later. He was in the bathroom with Albus who seemed more interested in blowing bubbles in the water than taking his bath. Harry let him. It was strange to see Malfoy laughing like that. The sight of Malfoy with a black eye and split lip rose in front of his eyes. And yet Malfoy had laughed and Harry had realised with a start that he had never seen Malfoy laugh. Oh yes, he had seen him smirking or laughing in a taunting manner but this genuine laughter was a first.

He was still thinking about it as he dressed Albus and led him out. Molly and Ginny were laying down the breakfast on the table. "Here," said Molly to Albus, "I've prepared cinnamon roles for you." Albus gave a happy squeal and ran towards the table.

"We thought it would be better if you have breakfast in this room." Ginny said to Harry slanting her eyes towards Malfoy who was standing beside the window.

"Right." Harry said, his stomach suddenly grumbling. Molly was such a fantastic cook. The rolls looked divine.

"Malfoy, come have your breakfast." Harry called out. Malfoy turned and took a step forward. And then, he seemed to freeze. Only for an instant. And had Harry not watching him intently, he would have missed it.

"Not hungry." Malfoy said, shrugging and turning away.

There was a sudden commotion outside the door, and the next moment Fleur came rushing in. "Where ees that Malfoy?" She hissed. Then one thing followed another. There were red scratches on Malfoy's face; Albus started shrieking; Molly dropped the plate that she was holding; Bill picked up Fleur and took her kicking and screaming from the room; Ginny turned towards Malfoy, "You did this to my brother." She screamed. Molly put her head in her hands: "And he was such a good looking boy." Albus rushed towards her and hugged her. Harry moved towards Ginny and held her tight.

Draco turned towards the window. The red lines on his face sparkled in the sun.

**4.7**

"Merlin, where is that Hermione?" Ginny was pacing in her room. "I have already sent five owls. How many more should I send? Doesn't she understand?"

"I am sure she will be home any minute now." Molly said soothingly.

"You have been saying that for the past so many hours."

"Ginny why don't you sit down?"

"Sit down. I sit down! While my son continues to suffer so much."

"Ginny! Albus is not suffering. He is busy playing with the other children."

"Confined to that room with that abominable man."

"Well you cannot expect Malfoy to rush with him all over the house. It is good that they are just in one room."

"Nothing good can happen while he is tied to that man."

"That's true. I hope Hermione has a solution when she returns."

"If she returns."

"Ginny what is the meaning of that?"

"Well Albus is not her child, is he?"

"Ginny!" Molly choked. "How can you even think something like this? Has Hermione ever differentiated between Rose and the other children?"

"Wouldn't she have rushed back had it been Rose who had been tied in this infernal bond?"

"You must understand, Ginny. She explained it in the last owl. There has been an outbreak of Dragon pox. After all, she is one of the head healers at Mungo."

"Yes. I understand, of course. Everything is more urgent, more important than my son."

"Ginny! Really!"

"Oh mom! Why do you always take the side of your daughters in law?" Ginny said crossly, flopping down on the bed. "First that Phlegm. I explained the situation to her. But the first thing she does is to scratch Malfoy's eyes out. What happens? It hurts Albus. And now Hermione. Here I'm going out of my mind and she…."Tears sprang in her eyes.

"There, there." Molly said, sitting down beside Ginny and putting an arm round her shoulders. "I'm sure everything will be alright."

"Oh Mom. If only you were here." Ginny said, tiredly. "James, Albus, Lily needing my constant attention and now Teddy. Merlin. I'm so exhausted at times."

"Ginny do you think I do not wish it so? Sometimes it is so lonely and far off from England. I want to see my grandchildren grow I front of my eyes. But then I look at George. Lee and Angelina do their best but George needs somebody from the family with him."

"It has been a decade mother!"

"They were twins Ginny. When Fred died, a part of George died too. You saw how he tried to kill himself."

"And he hasn't still kicked his habit, has he?" Ginny asked, breaking the silence which had fallen.

"No." Molly said, tiredly. "Thank Merlin though that the bouts do not last very long now."

"Doesn't he think of getting married?"

"Arthur and I have broached up the matter quite a few times. Angelina keeps introducing him to nice Canadian witches but he simply does not budge." Molly let out a sigh.

There was a knock at the door. "Molly. Ginny." Hermione said greeting them.

"Oh! So you finally decided to return?" Ginny's voice was venom.

Hermione looked taken aback before she shrugged and said. "I am sorry but didn't you receive my owl. There was an outbreak of…."

"We do not want to hear excuses Hermione."

Hermione flushed. "Ginny, I am not making up excuses. There really was…."

"Please. We do not want to hear how many patients you saved with your expertise. I want to know whether you found a cure."

"Hermione." Molly Weasley spoke up, glaring at her daughter. "Excuse Ginny. She is over wrought."

"I understand." Hermione said.

There was a knock at the door and Ron poked his head in. "Come on Healer Khan is most anxious to have a look at Albus."

"Healer Khan?" Ginny and Molly looked surprised.

"He is a healer at Mungo's." Hermione explained as they hurried out. "He is from the University of Takshila and understands this charm well.

**4.8**

Salazar! What a cacophony of noises. The noise was driving him mad. He had half a mind to tell Potter to ask his brood to shut up. The children were one thing but the Weasley twin was another. He was making more noise than the children put together. Apparently, he was their favourite uncle. Thankfully, he hadn't done more than snarled at him and told him that he shouldn't try to harm Albus in any way. Otherwise….Draco was amused at this threat. Had he not been in that state of shock after watching the eldest Weasley brother's face, he would have thrown the threat back at the man's face. But he was still thinking of the scars on Weasley's face. He had never realised. Never realised that the opening of that cabinet would lead to all that. He had been thinking of his father in Azkaban and his mother at the mercy of the Dark Lord. He had whooped with joy when he had finally got it right and the Death Eaters had entered Hogwarts. He had shattered the impenetrability of that hallowed institution. But all it had led to was….

Professor Snape! Draco's heart lurched painfully. What the hell! But then the man approached and he realised that it was not the professor at all. The black robes and the deportment had fooled him.

"Healer Khan, this is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, the man I was talking about. And Malfoy, this is Inayat Ali Khan, a healer at St. Mungo's and an authority on the _Vaatsalay_ charm." The mudblood made the introductions as the others crowded round them.

"_Salaam Alekum, janab_." The man greeted him in an oriental manner.

"_Walekum Aslaam_." He said, returning the greeting likewise. He felt rather than saw the mudblood's surprise. He smirked inwardly. What did she think he was? Some uncultured lout. He was a Malfoy, a Pureblood. Of course, he was well versed in the etiquettes of other cultures.

"So you are the man who cast the _vaatsalay_ and saved this young boy's life? Remarkable. Can I see your hands please?"

Draco was so disoriented by this rapid fire that he held out his hands. It was when the other held them in his hands that he realised with a hot flush at what he had done. It was too late to withdraw now and so he held himself high waiting for that inevitable narrowing of eyes, that the letter **A** seemed to draw from almost everybody.

But the other man's face remained impassive. If he was surprised at that sign of Draco's incarceration, he did not show it. Instead he continued to examine his hands with almost a professional detachment. "Of course." He muttered nodding sagely.

"What Healer Khan?" the mudblood said, coming forward.

"It is remarkable Healer Granger-Weasley. When you told me of the _vaatsalay _being cast by a man who wasn't even related, let alone the parent of the kid, I was most surprised. But now that I've seen the hands, I am mystified no longer. These hands know how to heal."

"How can you tell?" The She-Weasel's voice was little short of insulting.

"If you had my experience, _mohtarrma_, you will know." The man replied gravely, bowing towards her. Then he turned back and said, "You should have been a healer _janab_." But Draco neither heard him nor the snort that echoed in the room. Professor Snape was sitting in his chair and looked up as Draco entered his office.

"_So Draco have you given any thought to what you want to be?"_

"_Yes sir." He replied promptly. "I have always wanted to be a Healer."_

"_Healer." If Professor Snape was surprised, his voice did not reflect it. His eyes were appraising._

"_Yes." Draco nodded his head._

"_Are you sure, Draco?" Professor Snape got up and came to stand near him. "Have you discussed it with your father?"_

"_Yes, I have. Father was happy to hear it."_

"_He doesn't want you to manage his estates?"_

"_No. He was very good about it. He said I should make my own way in this world."_

"_So Lucius does not want you to follow in his footsteps?"_

"_No. In fact, he was very happy that I had thought of this profession."_

"_Good." Professor Snape was silent for a few minutes then he said in a voice that was just a little tight. Draco had a feeling that the Professor was holding himself. "I really want you to make your own way in the world, Draco, not simply follow your father." For a moment, Draco felt that he was about to pat his head. But then the hand dropped and the moment passed._

_His voice became professional once again as he listed the subjects that Draco would have to study. Then just as Draco was about to leave, he said, "And there is another thing. One thing that you must learn Draco. All the subjects above will make you a good healer but to be a great healer you need to learn something else. And it cannot even be taught." Professor Snape gave a mirthless laugh as he moved towards the shelves and stood with his back to him._

_Intrigued, Draco waited for him to speak._

"Mr.Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy!"

Professor Snape was looking at him in a peculiar manner. When had he started wearing glasses? And what had happened to his eyes? When had they turned brown?

"Mr.Malfoy are you alright?" Healer Khan's voice was concerned.

"I..."

Healer Khan suddenly held his arm and led him to the bed. "I think you should sit down."

"No I am fine," he said, yanking his arm away. The last thing he wanted was to appear weak.

The man appraised him for a moment and Draco was again reminded of the Professor. He had looked at Draco in the same manner, as though trying to look at something that was invisible.

"Fine." The man said. "Come here." He gestured to Albus who was led to the bed by his father.

"Do not worry beta," the man smiled. "Now I want you to put your hand in that of uncle's." Albus looked at Draco fearfully, his eyes large. With great effort, Draco restrained himself from sneering at him.

"Come on," Healer Khan coaxed, his voice soft. With a gentleness that surprised Draco, he put their hands together. Draco felt a strange tingling in his body. "Now relax." Healer Khan continued and then his voice was a smooth murmur. The icy hands that had been twisting Draco's insides all day long seemed to melt…..

"I think you both should rest now." Healer Khan seemed to be exhausted as he put his hands on Draco's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "As I explained, tomorrow Healer Vasundhra will be here and she will undo this bond."

**4.9**

"You know I am worried about this." Hermione was sitting in front of the mirror, brushing her hair.

"About what?" Ron asked, already snuggled in the sheets.

"The undoing of the bond. It is going to cause a lot of pain to the one who is going to undo it."

"You mean the woman, he mentioned. Vasundhra?"

"Yes."

"Come on Mione. She is pretty experienced. You heard him say it."

"Yes, I know. But still I am a little uncomfortable. It might even damage her magical abilities."

"Surely she wouldn't have assented if she feared that."

"Guess you are right." Hermione spoke, hesitantly.

"Don't worry too much about it." Ron assured her. "Now come to bed. It has been a taxing day. And you really shouldn't work this hard in your condition."

"Oh Ron I am fine." She said, coming to bed and kissing him on the forehead.

"You know," she said after a few moments of silence. "I'd really like to learn this charm. Harry is right. All parents need to know this. I really feel there should be more interaction between wizards of various countries. There is so much that we have no idea about. I am sure it would be most enriching. You know, just today Healer Khan told me of this wonderful spell. It is so amazing…

A snore from her husband cut her short. Smiling ruefully, she settled in the sheets.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Was busy with too many things, including a new fanfic that I've posted. It is titled, "The Weasleys' New Servant" and is again Draco-centric. It is rated M and it would be wonderful if you all would read it too.

Thanx **Daedu**l**, debzzz, excessivelyperky, azurerose, darkshadowarchfiend, kaillinne arami, **and** random-laughter** for your reviews. Hope you continue to encourage me thus.

Waiting for your views regarding this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations

**Chapter 5: Revelations**

**5.1**

_He runs up the stairs. He has to reach there fast. Fast. Someone is waiting for him up there. Someone. Who? His feet step on something soft. There is a heart-rending groan. He looks down. A face destroyed by pock-marks. Ugly. Repulsive._

"_Grandfather." He says, sinking down on his knees._

_The man brings his hand forward and feels his face. He tries to say something but no words emerge. He feels the moisture on his face. He clutches the old man's hands. _

"_Grandfather, I'll heal you. Please do not leave us. Please. Grandfather, it is me Draco, please speak to me."_

_The face changes. Scarred. All bites and scratches. Mangled and bloody. __**He was such a handsome boy**__, a woman screams. __**You are responsible for it**__. Another voice speaks with venom. Unknown hands clutch his hand. Feel them. Feel them. You caused them. The eyes open. They look straight at him. _

_Draco screams. _

His head collided painfully with the bed as he sat up, still screaming. There was a small whimper from the other bed. He put fingers in his mouth to control another scream from bursting forth.

"Sh…Albus…sh." Potter's voice from the other bed. Potter soothing his child.

Draco crawled out from under the bed, shaking. Today was a night of nightmares. He dared not sleep. His father will not come running out to cradle him in his arms. Mother will not press him against her snuggly. There would just be the hard floor underneath and the cold air all around. He leaned against the bed. The Darkness started whispering to him: "_There are throats to be ripped out, delicious, delicious……."_

**5.2**

"We need to talk." Ginny exclaimed, putting down the tray, hard. Harry knew that set of her mouth very well. He nodded at her.

"We need to have this bond broken as soon as possible, Harry and very frankly, I cannot trust the people Hermione is bringing over."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "You mean Healer Khan?"

"Yes the same. How capable a person can be if he declares a murderer to have a healing touch? Of all the things!"

Harry had to admit, she had a point. He had been as shocked as the rest of them when Khan had said that. Malfoy and healing hands! Even though a little hazy with time now, he remembered the nasty, malicious actions of Malfoy and those two goons of his.

"Yes Ginny, Khan did seem a little eccentric. But he is not going to undo the bond. It will be that witch, Vasundhra. And I am sure she is capable."

"How can you be sure Harry? What do we know of that woman? A man, who frankly seems crazy to me, recommends a name and we agree."

"Well, there is no alternative, is there Ginny? We simply have to trust…"

"Who says there is no alternative?" She asked, cutting him short.

He looked at her in bewilderment. "You heard what Hermione said. This charm is not that well known in this part of the world. There are no experts over here…."

"And should we treat whatever Hermione says as the gospel truth?"

His mouth hung open. "Ginny do you realise what you are saying?" He looked around, Albus was still asleep but Malfoy was in the bathroom and might well be listening to this conversation. He cast a silencing charm round the two of them. "Why would Hermione lie to us?"

"Well, Albus is not her child, is he?"

"**Ginny have you gone mad?!**" His voice had risen but he did not give a damn.

"There is no need to shout Harry."

"**And what are you insinuating? How could you even think of something so low**?"

"**Oh! Why does it hurt you so much to hear anything against your precious Hermione**?" Her voice had risen too.

"**Ginny**!" He moved forward and grasped her arm, tightly. "**Shut up right now**."

"You are hurting me Harry," she said, trying to get out of his grasp. Her eyes flashed fire.

He let go of her arm and lowered his voice. "What is wrong with you Ginny? Hermione was exhausted yesterday. Working round the clock. Trying to read material on this, contacting other healers and then that outbreak of dragon pox, looking after cases which she shouldn't have actually in her condition…."

"Why not? Isn't the Mater potion ideal for expecting mothers, safeguarding them and the babies against any kind of disease.?"

"Yes but it might not be totally foolproof."

"How can it be not, after all precious Cho created it?"

"Ginny what is the matter?" It was a rhetorical question and his shoulders slumped in an exhausted manner. "You are a successful auror…"

"Oh don't be so patronizing, Mr. Potter, Master-Conqueror, Super Auror and what not." Her eyes were glistening now.

He held her firmly by the shoulders. "Ginny I have told you so many times, I am really sorry I did not take any precaution. I know it is my fault but now it is only a matter of…"

She shrugged off his hands irritably. "The problem is Harry it was always _only a matter_ for you. It was never getting no sleep, never never-ending feeding, never colic, never nappy-changes, never……." Her voice choked.

"Gin please," he said, taking her in his arms.

"But anyways," she said after some minutes of silence, "what do we do about this problem? I want that man out of here as soon as possible. Your b'day is coming up and I do not want him in the house."

"Neither do I Ginny," he assured her. "The sooner he is out of here, the better. I am sure today the bond will be broken."

"And if it is not?"

Before Harry could reply however, Malfoy stepped out of the bathroom. Harry saw him hesitate a second before coming forward. Harry flushed thinking of the spectacle Ginny and he must have presented to him. He looked at Ginny who was staring at Malfoy with hard eyes. If Malfoy was aware of the icy, cold glare directed at him, he gave no indication. He sauntered towards the window and turned his back towards them. An aristocrat dismissing his minions.

"Harry, it better work today." Ginny said and stalked out of the room, slamming the door after her.

**5.3**

"Hello kids," a voice called from the doorway.

Draco watched the children rush towards the entrance where a man with flaming red hair stood with his arms wide open. "Uncle Charlie." They screamed in unison and threw themselves at him.

So this was the second Weasley, Draco mused, as Potter got up and greeted him. He had come to Hogwarts once. Fourth or fifth year? Wasn't it during the tri-wizard tournament? There was some task with the dragons. His heart had been in his mouth as he had seen the competitors take on the dragons. And one of them had blinded the dragon, wasn't it? And he had thrown up his food and hadn't been able to eat anything till a worried Pansy had talked to Professor Snape who had force fed him. Merlin, it really was so long ago. Imagine somebody being concerned about the fact whether he was eating or not!

"Hello there." He looked up. Dragon Weasley was standing in front of him, his hand stretched out. "Guess we have never met, I am Charles Weasley."

"Draco Malfoy." He said, and realised belatedly that he was supposed to shake the other man's hand. How long was it since somebody had offered him his hand? Really he had turned into a gauche! Somehow, he grabbed the other man's hand before it dropped down. It was rough and calloused. Much like Draco's own hand. But it did not have that fateful letter.

"Thanks for saving my nephew's life."

Draco stared at the man, wondering if he was being sarcastic, but the other man looked sincere.

"Uncle Charlie, your robe is burning!" One of the children shouted, pointing at the pocket, from where a thin wisp of smoke was curling out. The other children too shrieked as Potter said something.

"It is nothing," Weasley laughed. "Just a small friend." And Draco felt as though the bottom had fallen.

"_Draco." _

"_Father," he flung his toys aside as he rushed towards his father who picked him up and held him aloft._

"_Thank Merlin, you have come Lucius," mother said, "this boy was driving me crazy."_

"_How could I not come?" Father said, placing small kisses on Draco's face and head. "It is my baby's birthday."_

"_I am not a baby!!"_

"_Of course not!" Father said soothingly. "My son has attained the old age of six and that's why I have got something special for him today."_

"_Ooooh father, what's it?"_

"_A friend." Father replied, as he put Draco down and put his hand in the pocket of his robes._

"Oooh Uncle Charlie."

"Pretty little thing, isn't it? Got him from Cathay."

"Can I hold him?"

"Of course, come here."

The little Dragon suddenly snorted smoke and the children cowered back.

"_Come on Draco, hold him."_

_Draco took a few tentative steps towards the dragon. _

"_Lucius is it safe?" _

"Of course, Harry do not worry. It is a harmless little thing."

The children are squealing in delight: "Can we have him as our pet?" "Please, please, uncle Harry." "Daddy please, look it is so cute." "I have even thought of a name for him." "James give him to me."

Potter looks at Weasley who nods. "Of course. But you all have to share him." Potter says, ruffling the hair of one of the children who is holding the dragon.

Draco feels his father's hand in his hair as he holds little Yan in his hand and wonders why his eyes prickle so much.

**5.4**

"Daddy why did mum say no? Why can't we keep little Smokey ? You said we could have him." Albus sniffed as Harry gave him a bath.

Harry sighed inwardly. "Smokey is like a little baby, Albus. He needs uncle Charlie right now. When he is a little grown up you can have him."

"Smokey is a baby like Lily and Uncle Charlie is his daddy?"

"Er…Yes." Harry replied, suppressing a smile and wondering what he would say in case Albus asked about Smokey's mummy. Would the seven feet huge Dimitri Ivanovitch qualify as mummy? But Albus had moved on to more interesting matters.

"So Smokey is like Lily. But no smoke comes out of Lily's nose."

"Er..not all babies are alike, Albus."

Albus looked disgruntled. It was obvious he felt cheated as regards the baby in the family.

"Can we…"

"No Albus, there can be no exchange."

Albus pouted. "Okay but next time can we have a baby like Smokey?"

Harry burst out laughing. But then something seemed to catch in his throat. Lily, his youngest child. After the troubled pregnancy and birth of Albus, Ginny and he had decided not to have anymore children. Harry had been specially disappointed. He had wanted a daughter. It would have made the family complete. He sighed inwardly. On that day, he had returned home sick and tired to the bone. A Muggle family of five had been killed by magic. And the Ministry had sent Harry to investigate. Bile rose in his throat as the sight of those gruesome corpses rose in front of his eyes. And two had been children barely out of the crib! So there he was sick and tired and all he wanted was Ginny's arms to hold him tight. Turned out that Ginny had a tiring day too and she did not want to be disturbed. She had just wanted to sleep but Harry had been desperate, seeking for a refuge in her warmth and comfort. And in all the persuasion and protests he had finally had his way. It was only a few weeks later when Lily screamed at him for being an insensitive bastard that he realised that he had not taken any precaution. It had not helped that Ginny had been advised complete bed-rest by the Healers. And she had been working on a highly intriguing case too. Ginny had never forgiven him for what she saw as a lack of success in her professional life as an Auror. It did not help that Harry had been unable to conceal his delight when finally Molly had handed him his daughter. Ginny had never got rid of the notion that all of it had been deliberate.

**5.5**

"Malfoy. It is time you changed your robes. The healers would be here at any moment."

Draco nodded as he took the pristine white robes from Potter's hands. How long since he wore something so fresh and crisp. In Azkaban, prisoners were given robes made of sacks, smelling of failure and despair. After getting out, he had been given the robe that he had been wearing the day he had been arrested. And he was still wearing it. He looked down at the singed sleeve. The walls closed in. The flames rose higher.

"Malfoy are you alright? You are extremely pale."

The ashes flew about the room, obscuring his vision. Charred, the body gave up its secret. White as ivory, cold as marble.

"Malfoy!"

"I…I….cannot do it."

"Malfoy all you have to do is to take bath and wear these robes. Received a call from Hermione, she has asked us to make all the preparations. The healers will soon be here to undo the bond."

Hermione? Call? Healers? Potter? Bond? Bath? But the flames? Father's instructions? Bond? The small child falling in a pond. Of course.

"Yes, of course." He moved towards the bathroom. Salazar what was wrong with him? He could feel Potter's eyes on his back. He shut the door and leaned against it. What was wrong with him? Why was he making such a spectacle of himself? Oscillating between the past and the present….Was it the result of the charm? Salazar why had he to save Potter's child of all the people? He closed his eyes…. Voices and noises from the other side finally made him move.

He lowered himself in the tub. What a relief it was to have a bath in private. Those communal showers in Azkaban. That slow stripping of one's dignity with the clothes. Thank Merlin, he was out of that hell. But what was he going to do next? Soon the bond will be undone and then? With a start, he sat up in the water. What was he going to do next? After Azkaban, he had though of returning to his home. But the manor was gone, so was the….but no he will not think of that….but he had to go somewhere….where? Where were the others: Pansy, Vince, Greg, Theo, Blaise…..no no no…no Vince of course….Despite the water round him, his body burnt up…..He put his head in his hands and moaned…..better to get rid of the charm as soon as possible.

He put on the new robe, luxuriating in the feel of the soft cloth, the fresh smell. It felt good. He peered at the mirror. The hair grown too long, the thin face that accentuated his pointed chin, the dark circles under his eyes, the pale complexion….he turned away. Bending down slowly, he picked the discarded robe from the floor, steadfastly ignoring the singed area. Meticulously, he folded it. Today, after the bond was broken, he would dress up in this again as he made his way to the world outside. But where will he go? The Dark Mark and the letter **A** mocked him.

It was the hair that held him spell bound as he stepped out. Streams of them cascading down. His breath caught in his throat. His mother had hair like this. Long, luxuriant, gleaming. It was not often that she wore them loose but at times when she chose to do so, her hair would fall down just like those of the woman who now stood with her back to him.

"Ah there you are, _adaab arz hai janab_." Healer Khan moved towards him with alacrity.

"_Adaab_." He replied as the woman turned, and felt rather than saw the intensity of her dark eyes..

"So how are you feeling?" Healer Khan clapped him on his back.

"Better," he replied, smiling back. "Thank you."

"Ah, Vasundhra aapa come here," he said, beckoning to the woman. "Here is that remarkable young fellow, Draco Malfoy."

"_Namaste_." She folded her hands and bowed her head gracefully in the manner of the wizards of Hind.

"_Namaste_." He replied and returned the gesture.

She looked at him for a moment, then spoke, "Lucius must be real proud of you."

**5.6**

For a minute, the world stood still. Draco could only stare at the woman in front of him. Wheatish complexion, kohl-rimmed eyes, vermillion dot on her forehead, glittering nose-pin, saffron coloured robes. Then slowly in the confused hub of the room, her words sank in.

"Lucius…but how….my father….you….you know…knew him?" His voice was ragged.

"Yes," she replied simply. "We met when we were students and then…"

"You were not in Hogwarts." The mudblood spoke up, in a voice that was as much confused as accusatory. Draco realised that all the others present in the room had stilled themselves. Shocked into silence, perhaps?

"No, no of course not." The woman in front turned towards the others. "There was a seminar and competition at Durmstrang. We were to show our prowess in casting, improvising, and inventing charms. Students of all wizarding schools participated. I was chosen to represent Nalanda, Lucius, of course, Hogwarts." She said, turning back towards him.

"We had great fun." She continued smiling away in fond recollection. "There was Deiphobus from Delphi, Celina from Salem, Sahir from Cairo….."

"The one who created the _Aabo Wafa_ charm. The one that makes you swim underwater for hours altogether."

"Yes, the same one. He discussed this idea with us. I remember all of us clustered around on that barren expanse of land, discussing ideas, meals forgotten, engrossed only in expanding our knowledge. " Her voice was all soft in recollection. "Once Deiphoebus showed us how to use musical notes in order to heal people of physical injuries. Till then I had never heard the flute being played in that manner. He was declared the winner. She grinned suddenly, her eyes all aglow. "Lucius was most disgruntled, though."

Arthur Weasley sneered, his expression suggesting that this and only this was to be expected. "Where did he end up, the bottom of the list?"

"No, no," she shook her head in the negative, her voice amazed at such an idea. "The two of us shared the second position. He was brilliant."

"Great. Just Great. First a Death Eater has healing hands. Then another has a brilliant mind. Thanks a lot Hermione. Thanks."

"Ginny!" Several voices hissed.

"Ya Hatim! Look at the time and here we are gossiping." Healer Khan, proclaimed loudly. "I trust everything is ready, Healer Granger-Weasley."

Draco had never seen the mud-blood so flushed before. "It is." She muttered, gesturing vaguely and Draco noted that a corner of the room had been prepared for the ceremony.

"Splendid," Healer Khan said briskly, "so Vasundhra aapa shall we begin."

She seemed lost in thoughts but then she nodded and turned towards the child. "Come here, beta." She said, opening her arms wide, as Potter coaxed his child forward.

**5.7**

Brilliant!

He was sitting in a lotus position on the floor. Candle and incense burnt in front of him, creating a smoky, fragrant atmosphere.

Brilliant. She had called his father Brilliant!

"Here I am putting him in your lap." She said and the next moment a very stiff child was put in his lap.

Brilliant. She had called his father Brilliant. She had praised him!

The child squirmed in his lap, his eyes, fearful. "Mummy," he whined.

"Here I am son, don't worry." Potter and his wife were sitting on his right side. "I swear Malfoy, if you try to harm him…"

"Now, I want you to rid your mind of all negative emotions." Vasundhra over-rode the she-weasel's voice.

Death-Eater. Murderer. Arse-licker. Follower of a Madman. Bastard. Killer of small children. Coward. Ass-hole. Dastardly. Abominable. Despicable. Monster. Limping Lucifer. Spittle Licker.

His father.

"Rid your mind of all negative emotions." Her hand touched his forehead and a powerful surge went through him. "Let it go."

Brilliant.

His father.

"Relax." Again that touch.

He looked down at the small child in his lap.

"Think of the moment when all you wanted was to save him." Her voice was gentle, hypnotic.

He thought of the small body in his arms. Tentatively, his hand stroked the hair. The child looked at him. His eyes still large but the body not stiff anymore. The tension seemed to seep out of his body.

Death-Eater.

"Shhh…no more. It is over. Let go." Her hand was still on his forehead. And despite everything, he leaned into it. How gentle that touch was. Just like the Sun's rays. But the Sun did not want to be friends with him.

"He needs you."

He looked down at the child in his lap. His eyes drowsy yet looking at him with a peculiar expression. What had he thought of when trying to make his chest heave? The world had shrunk to this one body in his arms. At that time he had no name. Today he had one. Did it really matter?

"Think of love. Your mother and father loved you immensely Draco. Think of their love for you."

Mother, father. Laughter, sunshine, kisses and cuddles. Lullabies and swinging in the arms. Preparing a new potion, creating a new charm, discussing a book. Being thrown in the air, squealing in delight. Love. His arms came round the child, protectively.

Cymbals and bells began to tinkle.

"OM….." The chant had begun.

**5.8**

Hermione watched, fascinated. This was all so new. Ron and she were sitting on the left side of Malfoy. In the flickering light of the candle, she could make out Harry and Ginny sitting across her, on the right side of Malfoy and Albus. Everybody else was outside the room. In fact, they too had been asked to leave. But Ginny was vehement that Hermione should stay in the room and for once she was glad of Ginny's overbearing ways. She would not have liked to miss this for anything. But both Khan and Vasundhra had asked them to remain silent during the entire process. They had also asked them repeatedly to do away with any kind of negative thoughts or emotions.

Healer Khan was with Healer Vasundhra in front of Malfoy. The words, powerful, fell from Vasundhra's lips to reverberate in the room. What did the words mean? She'll have to ask. Beside her, Ron gave a hastily stifled gasp of surprise. She looked up. Malfoy and Vasundhra both seemed to be glowing in a silver light, their faces peaceful, relaxed. She too relaxed. From the time Healer Khan had told her about the consequences of undoing the bond, she had felt on edge. But it seemed everything was going well. Vasundhra seemed fine, her eyes shut as she chanted the mantra. The tension in her shoulders eased.

She felt the change soon after. The room suddenly became oppressive. The silver light began flickering. "Relax everybody. Do not let negative emotions weaken you." Healer Khan spoke softly, even as Vasundhra continued to chant.

There was a small sound.

"Albus." Ginny's voice was anxious.

"Sh..sh.." Khan whispered.

"Harry, what is wrong with…

"Don't interrupt ma'am." Khan's voice was full of anxiety. "This was explained to you."

Both the Healers had explained that there might be small cries of distress from both Albus and Malfoy. This was natural. The undoing of the bond might make them both feel emotionally and physically vulnerable.

A small whimper somewhere from Malfoy's lap.

"Merlin, he is in PAIN." Ginny's voice rose.

"Sh…sh… please Mrs. Potter, this is a crucial stage. Your son is fine."

Hermione was shocked to see a trickle of blood running down from Vasundhra's mouth.

Another whimper from Albus.

Blood was now flowing freely from Vasundhra's mouth and hands.

Malfoy arched back his neck. His throat, pale and white stood out against the darkening gloom. The candle had almost melted down.

The cymbals and bells started ringing with fervour. Vasundhra's jet black hair swirled around her as her body moved with the music.

A small scream from Albus. Ginny too screamed. "Stop it I say."

A gush of blood from Vasundhra's mouth.

Malfoy's hand came down hard upon the candle and snuffed it out.

**5.9**

"I blame myself for this." Healer Khan said as he paced the room. "I ought to have given more time for preparation."

"Please don't blame yourself." Hermione said as she sat slumped in a chair, feeling totally exhausted. "I should have explained the emotional equation between all of us in more detail."

"You told me that you all did not like Draco Malfoy, that he was a nasty, prejudiced, spiteful boy. That he was a Death Eater and that he had just been released from Azkaban. I should have explained all this to aapa."

"Will she be alright?" Hermione asked, feeling guilty about the whole episode.

"I believe so." Healer Khan stopped his pacing and took a deep breath. "Malfoy stopped it right at time otherwise the consequences might have been terrible."

"She was bleeding profusely." Ron spoke for the first time.

"Yes. I wanted her to stop too. I was worried that her magical core might be destroyed."

Ron gasped. "You mean she would have lost her magical abilities….but that's terrible. I mean look at what she was doing even without her wand."

Hermione thought of how Vasundhra had lit the candle by just staring at it and how with one flick of her hand, the musical notes of drums, cymbals, and bells had filled the room.

"Yes. In the east we do not depend too much on wands. We try to bring out the magical power from within."

Exactly, what Malfoy was doing nowadays, Hermione thought.

"But what exactly went wrong?" Ron asked after a pause.

"Even I am not very clear about this. See as I explained earlier too, this is a difficult bond to undo. All the more difficult when the two people involved are not related by blood. A parent or even a relative will do to save his loved one's life. Blood will respond to blood, and love and concern are already there in plenty. But imagine a stranger. When Mr. Malfoy saved young Albus' life, their bloods did not respond to each other. Mr. Malfoy had to use all his prowess to generate concern and love for the young child. So much so that he didn't even worry about his own weakening state. This bond goes deeper, lodges somewhere in the soul. Now we have to extract it from the soul somehow…"

"But Malfoy does not seem fond of Albus. In fact, he was terrorising him. Albus is scared of him."

"And yet Albus comfortably dozed off in his lap."

"So where did it go wrong?...Was it because of Ginny's interruptions."

"No….I do not really think so. Concentration obviously should not be disturbed. But I think that we had reached a stage where …..no I think there was too much of hatred and insecurity and distrust in that room."

There was a silence as Khan looked at them both and the two of them avoided his eyes.

"But you told us," Hermione said as the silence became uncomfortable, "that the emotions of the caster that is Malfoy and the person undoing the bond that is Healer Vasundhra are only those that matter. The emotions of the others do not count."

"What I said, Healer Granger-Weasley was that the emotions of all three were of primary importance: The person undoing the bond, the caster of the bond, and the person on whom the bond was cast."

"You mean Albus! But…how he is just a young child. What would he know of all this? And as I told you he doesn't even seem enamoured of Malfoy."

"Who knows what he felt when the bond was being withdrawn? Perhaps, it was his reluctance to let go that made aapa's work so hard. Sometimes children are more sensitive to certain situations than we give them credit for."

"A young kid's reluctance against an experienced witch! It does not seem convincing."

"Mr. Weasley, you have to remember that at that stage the three of them had become emotionally bound to each other. Albus's wishes must have made their way into both aapa's and Mr. Malfoy's subconscious."

"Then why didn't she stop herself? Why did Malfoy stop the entire thing?"

Khan sighed. "I cannot be sure but I think aapa was not only worried about Albus but also about Malfoy….she perhaps did not want him to remain over here."

"We haven't done anything bad to him," Ron bristled, "though Merlin knows he deserves it."

"I think you have yourself answered your question." Khan sat down and leaned back on a chair.

**5.10**

"Why did you do it? You know nothing would have happened to me." Lines of exhaustion were etched on her face but her eyes glittered.

They were sitting on the floor, side by side. The child was curled up in her arms. Just the three of them in the room. Of course the others had been most reluctant to leave the child with them all alone. The She-weasel had thrown a proper tantrum. Salazar, did they still believe he would harm the child!

"Father also said the same thing and then look what happened…" He stopped in confusion. What had he said?!

"So Lucius undid the Vaatsalay." She nodded to herself. "But then was it your mother who cast it on you?"

"Yes." He said, suddenly tired. "The Dark Lord punished me severely….I….I…had not been able to perform a task he had set me….."

She squeezed his shoulders and he continued. "The Dark Lord was very angry. Nobody knew about this charm. But mother could not be by my side always. The pain used to be terrible. Then the situation became desperate as I had to return to Hogwarts, that is my school….thankfully father returned and he undid the bond. But he wasn't that well-versed…his magical abilities were seriously hampered….I know the kind of ridicule that he faced…..I could not allow any such thing to happen to you…. What happened to the eldest Weasley was an accident…I had no idea Greybeck would be there….but still it was my fault….I could not knowing fully well take the risk of letting your magic be ruined." He stopped appalled. He was rambling and how! What would she know of these things?

There was a silence for a few minutes, then she spoke, "As I said earlier, your father would have been proud of you."

He looked up then and asked the question that he had been dying to ask from the beginning. "You knew my father. How…how was he…I mean as a student…you called him brilliant…."

"He was. The way he could improvise old charms was marvelous. You know there is an old charm known as Aguamenti?"

"The one that produces water from the wand?"

"Yes, the same one. But earlier it only used to produce water that was undrinkable."

"What?"

" Yes. Strange isn't it? And as you know water cannot be transfigured. It was Lucius who combined it with an old Germania charm called Vassereau and thus produce water that is drinkable."

"But how did people survive before that? I mean travelers and all."

"Oh they had to rely on an old charm called Aquaq. They would strike the ground with their wand and chant the charm for the ground water to sprout out. Or people would disaaparate to streams, ponds etc. The new improved Aguamenti made things a lot easier especially for wizards traveling through deserts or on the sea, who now did not have to store water."

He mused about this. Strange his father never mentioned it. Nor did he read about it in a book. But then another thought struck him.

"Wait you also said that my parents loved me. How would you know that? You said you met him when he was a student? Did you continue to meet him? Why did he never mention you then?"

"At other times, I would not have told you this, this being rather confidential, but right now you need to know…."

"Please do tell me whatever it is." He interrupted her. He had to know.

She smiled at him. "You know that Lucius and Narcissa remained childless for quite a few years after their marriage. They tried a lot many things but sometimes even magic fails you."

He nodded.

"So imagine their happiness finally when Narcissa conceived. They were, how do you put it, over the moon." She paused and then continued, "Those were the times when Voldemort ….

He gasped. "You know about him?"

"The Dark Lord? Of course I do. And I think, I can guess why people like Lucius and Severus fell under his spell."

"Severus? You mean Professor Snape? You knew him too?" There was disbelief in his voice. Neither his parents nor his professor had ever mentioned her.

"Not the way I knew Lucius. We never communicated with each other. But Lucius would mention him in the owls that he sent me, telling me all about the potions that he created. He was brilliant too."

"He was. You know he never let know that he was actually a spy." He could not help the bitterness that had crept in his voice.

She studied him for a moment. "You feel that he let you down? That had he let you know of his true allegiance you would not have followed Voldemort?"

"I mean, he was my father's friend, right. When he himself could switch to the other side, he could have persuaded my father too."

"Really Draco? Was your father one to be persuaded?"

"He could have tried. I mean even I could make out that the Dark Lord was nothing but a mad man. I did not want to follow him….."

"Yet you did."

"I had no option. He..he would have killed my parents…he said so…"

"There you are Draco. People followed Voldemort for different reasons. You because you feared for your parents, Lucius for his lust for power, Severus because he wanted to belong somewhere, to be accepted….and that's why I say that Severus could not have persuaded Lucius to switch on to the other side. Their reasons for joining Voldemort were so different."

"Good for him. He ended up on the winning side."

"Yes, to be reviled as the murderer of Dumbledore."

"But…but he did it on Dumbledore's instructions. Potter told us. Some story about his mother and the professor. I am sure he must be being feted as a hero."

"I don't know. I have come to Albion after a long time. I briefly visited this place around seven years back. At that time the war was more fresh in everybody's mind, but I do not think I saw anything glorifying Severus Snape."

"You mean they have forgotten him?! This can't be…."

"So despite the bitterness, you do care about him Draco?"

"How can I not?" The words were flung out of his mouth. He stood up and took a few steps undecidedly. "He was the only one who cared about us Slytherins. The rest of Hogwarts simply looked down their noses at us. We were anathema to them. They would rather not associate with us. He gave us confidence in ourselves……And that's why it hurt so much, that in the final analyses, it did not really matter to him, otherwise he would have tried to turn us away from the Dark Lord. He did not find us worth saving…..no…no that cannot be true…..otherwise why would he kill Dumbledore instead of me…he…he..really must have cared then……." His words died down in a confused whisper.

There was a hand on his shoulder. "It would be better if you sit down, Draco. These last few days have been quite draining."

Silence fell in the room again as he looked at the young child curled up in her arms.

"You should rest too," he said after some time, "must have taken a lot out of you today." He shuddered inwardly, what would have happened had he not stopped the ceremony at that point? Join Bill Weasley, Dumbledore, Professor Snape…..

That reminded him. How had she met him? "You were telling me about the time when I was about to be born."

She really looked very exhausted now and he felt guilty of asking her all these questions. "Please..."

She smiled at him but then shut her eyes. "Okay. So as I was saying when you were about to be born, Voldemort was gaining in power and initiating his dreams of world dominance, but then he learnt about a prophecy." She sighed and leaned her head against the wall.

"I know, something about the person born on the last day of the seventh month able to kill him. It referred to Potter."

"But at that time it was not specifically the last day but last days and nobody knew for sure who the baby was going to be. And Lucius was most worried. He knew, follower or not, Voldemort would not hesitate to kill you were you to be born in the last days of July."

"But how could that be. I was born in June."

"You were born in June eventually but actually you were supposed to be born in the first week of August."

"What?!"

"Yes, that was the tentative time Healers had told Narcissa she will give birth to the baby, that is you."

"But…then …how…"

"Both Lucius and Narcissa were very worried. It is not uncommon that babies are born a few days before or after the tentative date. And if it happened that rather than the first week of August, Narcissa gave you birth in the last week of July….."

"The Dark Lord would have killed me." He breathed out.

"Exactly. And that is what made Lucius and Severus come to me. At Nalanda, we had just invented a potion that would make the child come out of his mother's womb faster, without damaging either the mother or the child."

"But is this so uncommon in magic?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Birth and death are destined, Draco. To make somebody take birth early is going against the natural laws of life."

"Why invent such a potion then?"

She sighed. "Because sometimes it becomes inevitable that you go against the natural order of things."

He felt a head ache coming on, he would think about all this later. Right now he wanted just the narrative. "So father and Severus came to you. Why Severus though?...Oh because of Potter?...So you gave them the potion?"

"It was not merely handing them a vial. Something was expected in return too. The potion could only work, if something was sacrificed."

"Sacrificed?"

"Yes." She shut her eyes once again. Lines of pain appeared on her face. "Did you never wonder why your father used a cane?"

"He...he told me, he had suffered an injury while playing quidditch and that it could never be mended. You mean he…"

"Yes Draco."

He thought of his father in pain. Sometimes his leg would become so inflamed that he would not be able to even lie down properly, let alone sit or stand. He remembered the red botches that often appeared on his father's legs. Or the times when he would scream out in pain. He used to wonder why there was no cure for it. And people had made fun of his limp. Limping Lucifer.

"They loved you a lot Draco, cared about you immensely." She had her hand in his hair, caressing his head.

Now why should that make the tears flow down his face?

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A/N: Thanks to **Daedul/Ignus; random-laughter, Minoki, kailline arami, excessively perky, opera twin, azure rose, songbird severine, and inuyasha's hun for reviewing the story. Please let the reviews come. **


	6. Chapter 6: Song of the Mermaids

**This chapter is dedicated to **_**Jay FicLover**_** for writing a review that every writer wishes for. **

**CHAPTER 6: THE SONG OF THE MERMAIDS**

**6.1**

_The Dark Lord stands in front of him. His red eyes eerie in the darkness. _

"_Cruccccio."_

_He feels as if his insides are being ripped apart. His limbs are twisted. Something vile comes out of his mouth and he realises that he is covered with his own vomit. But he does not have the energy to cover his mouth. His limbs are twisted. The arms flail on the ground. Something is breaking each and every bone in his body. Red hot iron rods are being put in his eyes. He is going blind. Would the red eyes be the last thing that he ever sees?_

"_Draco…Draco.." Somebody holds him in their arms. He tries to peer open his eyes. Wonder of wonder, he succeeds. It is his mother. But why is her hair jet-black as they cascade down her shoulders. The pain disappears as his mother rocks him in her arms. She is singing a lullaby, and as the words flow over him he feels secure._

"_You insssolent woman!" The Dark Lord thunders and the pain returns, redoubles, as both of them try to hold on to each other._

"_Cissy! Dragon!" It looks like his father but it can't be. There are tears on the man's face and father never cries. His tears wash over him as he gathers mother and him in his arms. "Spare them my lord, spare them." He pleads._

"_Sssso Luccciussss, you want to sssssave them? But what will you ssssacrificccce?" The Dark Lord hisses._

_Father brings down the dagger on his own leg. A spurt of blood covers Draco's face._

"_Bring it to me." Arthur Weasley commands. Father tries to get up on one leg and fails. "Crawl you lame loser. You are fit only for crawling." Weasley laughs._

_Professor Snape rushes in, wand in hand. "Severus." A tremulous voice calls out. Professor Snape's dark eyes flit across the room. "Avada Kedavra," he utters. A green light emerges from his wand, only the wand is turned on to himself and Draco watches as he falls from the high-tower like a rag-doll._

"_You killed him." Weasley pronounces. He claps his hands and a Dementor enters and moves towards Draco who sits paralysed. However, before he can stoop down on his mouth Uncle Rudholphus rushes in and puts himself between them. The Dementor carries him away._

"No" Draco shouts and wakes up. Dry heaves racked his body. Thank Salazar, he hadn't eaten anything yesterday otherwise he would have been lying in a pool of his own vomit as he had been in the nightmare. Will these nightmares never cease? What had made him cast that charm? He peered from under the bed, in the faint light of the muggle lumos he could make out Potter and his child sleeping on the other bed. They looked so relaxed and peaceful. With a growl, he bit down on his wrist viciously and was most gratified when the child gave out a small scream.

"Hush, Albus." Potter woke up immediately, comforting his whimpering child.

"Daddy," the child cried clinging to Potter.

"My son," Potter whispered soothingly as he gently patted the boy's back. "There. There. Daddy is here."

Draco howled.

The Darkness slapped him on the face.

**6.2**

"Malfoy, Albus is getting fidgety. One cannot confine a child in one room all the time. Would you mind having breakfast with him in the living room?"

For a minute, he wanted to sneer and refuse but this room had acquired a nightmarish quality. He simply nodded his head and followed Potter out of the room…………….

And wished he hadn't.

Plastered on the wall was an illuminated cage. Muggles, looking depressed and morose sat at a table. He felt a sharp pain across his shoulders leaving him almost dizzy. Muggle Lover Weasley was sitting in front of the cage holding a curiously shaped wand in his hand, absorbed. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would not have believed it. Obviously all that Muggle love was just a farce. Here he was right in front of Draco's eyes, torturing the muggles, having reduced and imprisoned them. The Muggles were even little than gnomes.

"_So Malfoy, do you like it over here, yes?" _

_He can barely stand now. His shoulders are hunched as he looks out of the bars._

"_Reducto." The man whispers, flicking his wand in a careless manner. The roof of the cage comes down a little more. Draco falls down on his knees._

"_On your knees, Malfoy. Tut…tut..tut….Pureblood wizard. Superior to the rest….Reducto." Again that careless flick. The roof descends still more._

_He is on his hand and knees. _

"_Crouched like an animal, Malfoy. Tut…tut…tut. What a come down! Reducto."_

_Draco screams in pain. The roof of the cage pins him down. He can feel the entire weight of it on his back. _

"_Oh I am so sorry Malfoy. Does it hurt?"….. "No answer, hmmm….. perhaps a little more. Reducto."_

_His screams rent the air then abruptly disappear as he is squashed on the floor of the cage, the roof pressing down his body. The weight on his back is immense. There is absolutely no room for any maneuver. Even breathing is difficult. His mouth wide-open while screaming freezes in that position._

"_You look like a worm that you are Malfoy." And then all he can hear is the sound of footsteps…..retreating._

Gleeful laughter…. ….Draco was horrified! And only that stunned moment of horror prevented his knees from buckling over…..Potter's child was brandishing the wand in his hand and the muggles had turned into gaily-coloured animals. Potter's child was allowed to do magic at such a young age! Even his father had never allowed him such leeway. And Potter's child could do all this with such impunity. But then Potter always did get away with everything. Why should anything be different for his child?

So that was why he had been brought to this room. So that they could cage him and turn him into an animal.

"_Show us some monkey tricks Malfoy. Here catch."_

"…..the matter? Malfoy!"

"Oh Harry! Isn't it obvious? He has never seen a television before."

"NEVER SEEN A TELLY!!" Children's voices raised in unison finally made him turn towards the table.

So this cage was called a telly. Perhaps they could imprison him but will they dare to torture him? If they did so, he will start harming himself and they will have to let him out after all the child too would be affected. Wonderful. Just let them try!

"Come Malfoy." Potter gestured vaguely towards a chair.

"I think I'll have my breakfast in the kitchen." Arthur Weasley said, moving towards the door.

"Hermione, these scones are absolutely delicious." Twin Weasley said, smacking his lips, and breaking the silence that had fallen in the room in the wake of Arthur Weasley's stiff retreating back.

The Mudblood looked gratified. "Thanks George. Here have some more. You too have some Malfoy."

"Oh yes, come come." Twin Weasley said waving grandly with the knife with which he was spreading the butter. Really how uncouth can one be! Some of the children giggled.

Draco sat gingerly on the chair. Twin Weasley passed him the scones and jam.

As he almost finished the second scone, he became aware of the silence around him. The children who had been giggling all the while had gone totally silent. Salazar were his elbows on the table! Mother was never going to forgive him. He looked around. The children were watching him, their mouths open. When they met his gaze, they looked down guiltily, shuffling their feet. Was their jam on his chin?

"What is the matter?" The mudblood asked. As one, the children swirled their gaze towards Twin Weasley.

"George?"

"It was just a small joke." Twin Weasley replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"But how could he eat then Uncle George? Did it not work?"

"James tell me." Potter spoke to the boy who had just spoken.

"Oh, it is nothing much. The kids were feeling pretty glum. I thought I'll enliven things a little. I charmed the scones that Malfoy was eating, stone hard and the jam was full of gravel." Twin Weasley answered, as the boy looked at him in appeal.

"What!" The weasel exclaimed. He stretched forward and picked up the piece that was still lying on Draco's plate, uneaten, and took a bite before anyone could stop him. "Ouch," he exclaimed as he spluttered it out.

"Damn," he muttered as he drank a jugful of water, "I think I have lost a tooth and that sand. Bah!."

"So I haven't lost my magical abilities." Twin Weasley said placidly, looking not at all put out by his younger brother's misery. The children were convulsed with helpless laughter.

"But…." The mudblood seemed dumbfounded. "If that's so, why didn't Malfoy……" She turned towards him and he knew the exact moment when the confusion cleared in her eyes and understanding dawned. And a split second later….

But he could not allow it. Not that expression. Not from the mudblood.

"Well what kind of cooking can one expect from a mudblood anyways?" He drawled.

"Malfoy!" Twin Weasley shouted, lunging at him while the boy with the ever-changing hair clamped a hand on his mouth and said, "Ha…that's a bad word." The Weasel tried to restrain his brother and in all this confusion he noticed that her eyes had skipped from understanding to hatred and had never got the chance to reflect _that_ which would have broken him for ever.

**6.3**

"Why wasn't I told anything of this?" Percy sounded aggravated as he addressed the question to his sister. "Had Charlie not come over today, I would never have known."

"What was the use?"

Percy looked as though he had been slapped. "Damn it Ginny. You called everybody. Mum, dad came from Canada, Charlie was away to Cathay….I live in London and you could not tell me."

"And what precisely would you have been able to accomplish?" Ginny's voice was so insulting that even Harry flinched. God, why was Ginny so stubborn at times? Why couldn't she let go?

"I might have thought of something to undo the bond."

"Really! You know more than our resident Healer, though Merlin only knows what she has been doing."

"Ginny that is enough!" Harry shouted.

"Why is it enough?" Ginny looked hard at her husband, hands on hips. "What did the two so-called authorities on that charm do yesterday? Were they able to undo the bond? No. So why were they here? To give certificates of excellence to Death Eaters: Healing hands, brilliant minds?"

Arthur Weasley snorted. "Praising such scums as the Malfoys."

Hermione gave a tired sigh. "Healer Khan is much respected at Mungo's. I have worked with him on a couple of cases and he really is brilliant. When I discussed the case with him, he suggested Healer Vasundhra and fire-called her. She came all the way from Nalanda." She looked at all of them in an appealing manner.

"Nobody is questioning you, Hermione." Molly Weasley said, glaring at her daughter. "You also had no idea that well she would turn out to be incompetent."

"I don't think it was incompetence." Hermione sounded shocked. "She really tried very hard, put herself at tremendous risk."

"Yes Mom," Ron spoke. "You all were outside but we saw it. She was bleeding profusely. In fact, Healer Khan told us that had Malfoy not stopped the ceremony, her magical core might have been destroyed."

There was a small skeptical silence.

"All this sounds so much mumbo-jumbo to me." George finally said.

"Are you sure Hermione, this is not dark magic?" Molly spoke nervously. "I mean, the Malfoys are known practitioners of dark magic."

"This is not dark magic." Hermione spoke with emphasis, "though relatively unknown over here. I was there when Malfoy cast it. I am sure."

"It is all that Teddy's fault." Ginny remarked. "Had the kids not run off with him, none of this would have happened."

"Really Ginny! Must you blame the poor boy." Harry finally lost his temper.

"You do not have to be the one…."Ginny turned towards him in anger.

"Yes change nappies, feed the babies, get up in the night, I have heard it a thousand times. Ask your mother whether she also felt the same way when all of you were infants."

He slammed out of the room.

Ginny turned towards her mother. "See this. Just see this." Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes brimmed with tears. "This is how I am treated."

Molly Weasley clasped her daughter to her bosom. "There there Ginny. The two of you are overwrought. It is understandable. I'll talk to Harry."

George gave out a small whistle. "Hermione, Ron come here. I think I have a plan."

**6.4**

"You know what you said was a bad word." Everchanging hair-colour boy was standing in front of him, face all solemn and hair all brown.

He sneered back. "Perhaps you have forgotten what I am. I am the one who sacrifices young babies on the altar of the Dark Lord."

"Oh come on Malfoy. That joke has become stale." Dragon Weasley looked up from where he was playing a game of exploding snap with the other children. "Must you play the role of the black-hearted villain?"

He had been banished back to this room with the children after the mudblood comment. However rather than Potter this time round it was Dragon Weasley who had been assigned guard-duty. He wished that young Smokey had been there too. It would have been fun to play with him. But the She-Weasel had thrown such a tantrum yesterday regarding keeping him in the house that the little fellow had been taken away. Wonder where Dragon Weasley had taken him.

"You do not know me," he snarled.

"I know that I'd not have been sitting over here with my nephew had you not been there."

Something seemed to catch in his throat. The conversation was spiraling out of his control.

"And since then I've regretted it every moment."

Dragon Weasley gave him a skeptical look. "You know you are a very lousy liar."

How dare he! "Do not presume to know me," he snapped.

Dragon Weasley got up from his place and walked towards him. "Then it is time we all knew each other." He beckoned the children as Draco watched in bewilderment. "I am Charles Weasley as I told you, the second son of Molly and Arthur Weasley, brother to half a dozen Weasleys: Bill, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny; brother-in-law to Fleur, Hermione, and Harry Potter….

"Is this supposed to be funny?"

"No just factual."

"Sorry but I am not interested. Too many of you."

"Yes. More children than they can afford blah blah blah ……but you know, all the more to cushion you when you fall. So many to lend you a hand to haul you up, so many with a shoulder to lean on when you cry."

He curled his lips. "Basically to make you weak and dependent."

Dragon Weasley's eyes glittered. "No Malfoy, basically to make you feel loved and wanted."

"My parents loved me. I was precious to them."

He cringed. When had his voice become so shrill?

The other man's voice had gone soft and apologetic. "I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you."

Draco laughed. "Hurt me? Hurt me?" Hurt was seeing your Father suffer one crucio after another and you so helpless; seeing your Mother control her tears and you so helpless; seeing your professor's cold body on a cold floor and you so helpless…. "They were not like your parents, having so many of you and then depriving you of so many things." He laughed still more. "Oh I remember the weasel with his handed-down clothes and malfunctioning wands and second-hand books."

"Yes Ron was deprived of many things." The other man sighed.

Would anyone sigh for him? Feel bad that he had now only a single singed robe, no wand, and that the sole book in his possession was a gift? Instead Dragon Weasley will mention it and gloat.

There was a silence for a few minutes then Weasley opened his mouth and Draco braced himself. "But we seemed to have digressed from our subject. Now the kids."

The other man turned towards the children and Draco felt so disoriented at his not gloating (How could anyone let such a golden opportunity pass?) that he listened in silence as the children were introduced one after the other:

"James Sirius Potter, eldest son of Ginny and Harry." The black-haired child (or kid in Newspeak). The child gave him a tentative smile.

"Roselyn Weasley, daughter of Hermione and Ron." The red-haired girl looked at him apprehensively. He remembered she had shrieked when he had mentioned his preference for eating little girls. Weaslette.

"Vic Weasley." Another girl. Almost ethereal. Was she there on the first day? He could not quite recall. "Fleur and Bill's daughter." Ah! That explained the beauty. The girl grinned at him.

"The young gentleman whom you saved. Albus Severus." Thunderclap in his ears.

"What..what did you say?"

"Surely you know. Albus. Albus Severus."

Severus! Severus!! A knife was plunged in his side. Black eyes. That curtain of hair. The billowing robes. The comforting smell of potions. His professor.

He almost extended his arms. But no, this was a Potter. In fact a miniature of the elder Potter. He curled his hands into fists, the nails digging inside the palms.

If Weasley noticed anything, he did not let show. "And last but not the least, Edward Lupin. Our very own Teddy." The boy with the ever-changing hair…… And then he recognised the name.

"_Will you baby sit the cubs?" The Dark Lord's voice. _

He took a step back. Merlin had he been touched by this animal.

His revulsion must have been evident on his face because the cub's smile faltered.

"And kids, he is Draco Malfoy." Dragon Weasley went on doggedly. "Uncle Draco for you all."

"Thank you. I am much charmed to have been introduced to blood-traitors, half-breeds, beasts and what not." He spat out.

Weasley's face turned red with indignation and his voice was tight when he spoke. "They are my family Malfoy. One day perhaps you will understand the meaning of the word."

**6.5**

"…_..all the more to cushion you when you fall. So many to lend you a hand to haul you up, so many with a shoulder to lean on when you cry."_

Charlie's words echoed in his ears and he felt the tingling of tears. He had been about to enter the room when the words had stopped him. After that he had been unable to hear anything else and had simply slinked off. But he shouldn't have. He should have gone and confronted his elder bother. Asked him where was his support system? But then Charlie had always been there for him. The only one who had not turned his face off. And Mom? Mom perhaps did not want to but the pressure from the others had been too great for her to shrug off.

And wasn't it all his fault to begin with? He had been the one to shrug off his family in the first place. They were merely giving him a taste of his own medicine. But hadn't he come back to them? Why couldn't they forgive him? By what twisted logic had Fred's death been pinned on his shoulder? As though his return had taken Fred away from them forever.

"Don't you dare shed tears for him, you hypocrite!" George had shouted at him on the day of Fred's funeral.

He had looked beseechingly at the others and had been shocked to see a similar kind of accusation in their eyes.

"Son." His father had moved forward and taken George in his arms. He waited for an arm round his shoulders too. No arm came forward to encircle him. Only Charlie had squeezed his shoulder a little later.

And today Charlie was talking about the merits of having a large family to that Death Eater. How would he understand? The spoiled rich prat of an unscrupulous man. The man who had tried to kill his little sister once. But the sister was not little anymore, was she? He remembered a time when she had just been a baby and he had sung lullabies to her and rocked her in his arms. And she had smiled and gurgled at him. So much like the baby she had now in her arms. With a start he realised that he had held his niece perhaps only once in his arms.

"Harry are you here? Oh I am sorry."

He looked up. His father had entered the room and immediately taken a U-turn.

"Dad," he said getting up.

The other man turned around and said coolly, "Yes?"

"Dad I….I…" he stuttered.

"What is it?"

He fumbled in his pocket. "Dad…dad it was all very sudden…..but I bought this for you." He extended the gift towards his father with shaking hands. "It…it is a ….."

"I know what it is. It is a device to talk…..Pretty common."

"I….I…got it for you."

"Kind of you but I already have one. George gifted it to me last month, the latest model too, you see. And now please excuse me, I am looking for Harry."

With a nod his father stepped out of the room and he sank down on the chair once again looking at the cell phone. It had taken him an entire month's salary to buy this from the shop at Diagon Alley which had started selling Muggle merchandise. But of course this wasn't the latest model. And he wasn't George. He was just Percy the prat. And there was no hand to haul him up, no shoulder to lean on. And words, well they were just words.

**6.6**

Harry felt cornered. This always happened. Whenever Ginny and he had a fight, Molly and Arthur would try to make him understand. Even from far-off Canada, their owls would arrive. He hated this habit of Ginny. They were adults, they ought to handle their affairs themselves. But no she had to drag her parents in each and every issue. Long, tearful owls were sent or now that the wizard world had discovered telecommunication, frantic calls would be made. Harry had often tried to reason with her. Her reply was always the same: "They are my mother and father, Harry. Family."

Family. It was on occasions like this that Harry was most conscious of his orphan-like status. Sometimes he wondered whether he should have contacted the Dursleys after the war was over. Dudley, after all had shown a little affection at their parting. Perhaps with time their mutual dislike might have disappeared. With his constant presence removed from the house, perhaps the relation between them might have improved. Perhaps then his family might not have been one only acquired thru marriage.

"Perhaps what you are telling me you will also tell your daughter." He said bitingly, cutting Molly's tirade.

"Do you think I have not, Harry?" Molly's voice was pained and Harry felt guilty. But he was also furious. How dare Molly and Arthur trap him like this.

"Listen Harry, I understand both of you are overwrought and under tremendous pressure and I also understand that Ginny is not the most patient of persons. And then the post-natal depression…."

"Tell me something did you also suffer from this post-natal stuff. I mean Arthur must have had a pretty tough time considering how many….." Appalled, he stopped mid-sentence. God how crude of him.

"She is my daughter, Harry but she is not exactly like me." Molly said, her eyes narrowing. "I was happy with my husband, home, and kids. But Ginny does not want merely this for herself."

He ran a tired hand thru his hair. How many times would they have this discussion, how many times would he apologise? "Look, I know that Ginny did not want another baby. And I am sorry I forced it upon her. But what is done is done. I cannot change it. Lily makes our family complete."

"And she too loves her daughter very much, Harry. Don't you ever forget it."

"Well she has a fine way of showing it then." He muttered sullenly.

"HARRY!" Both Arthur and Molly seemed to recoil in shock. "Don't say anything so preposterous. Ginny is a good mother."

"I am not denying it. It is just that she…"

"She is exhausted Harry. The kids are young. They need her constant attention. Earlier you had Kreacher so things were manageable but now that he is gone, everything seems to have fallen on her shoulders."

"That's not true. Hermione also helps in the household work. So do Ron and I. And it is not that with magic it is much of a drudgery."

"Hermione helps but she is always being called for one emergency or another. And don't tell me young man whether it is drudgery or not. I think, in this case, I know better than you."

"Why don't you keep another elf?" Arthur questioned.

"Hermione doesn't want it. She accepted Kreacher because he was already bonded to me. But after his death she said that she would not allow anymore slaves."

"Slave! That's quite ridiculous you know. Elves are neither slaves nor are they treated as one."

"Except by certain scums of the earth like the Malfoys." Arthur Weasley spat out the final word with violence.

"_You've lost me my servant, boy."_ A cold voice spoke near Harry's ear making him jump up. After so many years, why should he remember that piece of dialogue now?

"I'll talk to Hermione about this." Molly said getting up. "I will make her understand." She looked relaxed as though she had found a way out. An elf will put an end to their bickering. He wished it was that easy.

"It is that damn bond too. With Malfoy in the house, it is aggravating the tension. I had asked the Minister to give life imprisonment to all the Death Eaters but Shakelbolt….." Arthur Weasley shook his head in resignation. Then he gave a reassuring smile to Harry. "Don't worry son, everything will work out just fine.

**6.7**

And surprisingly everything really did.

That night, Molly took Lily to sleep with her and Charlie took care of Albus, so that Harry and Ginny could be together. Undisturbed.

It was a night that Harry would not forget. At first, their love making was rough, almost vicious as the anger in both of them came to the fore. But their bodies so much in need of the other, soon took over. The anger that had been building inside both of them disappeared as their fingers and mouths explored each other. In retrospect, it seemed to Harry that both of them were terrified, determined to discover the love that had bound them in the first place. There were tears and kisses as fury and grievances gave way to need and desire.

In the early hours of the morning, they made love again. Soft and languid. Later as a satiated Harry lay back, Ginny planted a kiss on his forehead and said softly, "Happy Birthday, Love," and Harry felt that it was going to be a glorious day as he took her in his arms and kissed her back. She was his wife, his own Ginny.

The feeling of happiness increased as the day progressed. The two of them were shunted out of the house by a determined Molly. "Go enjoy yourselves."

"But Mum, the kids are quite a handful," Ginny protested. "Are you sure you will be able to manage?"

"Young lady, I brought up a whole lot of unmanageable, undisciplined Weasleys. I am sure I can manage this generation too." Molly replied with her hands on her hips.

So the two of them spend that day out, going to the places they had frequented before their marriage. And once with the sun's rays catching Ginny face in a particular way, Harry realised with a force so strong why he loved her so very much. Reaching out, he took her hand in his and as she leaned against him he felt a contentment that he hadn't felt for a long time.

When they returned in the evening, there was a huge placard with HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAREST HARRY on it, placed right at the entrance. Harry's mouth fell open as he looked at Ginny who too seemed surprised. As they entered, they were showered with confetti. The house itself had been decorated with flowers and festoons and musical cards that sang the birthday song. And the aroma from the kitchen was heavenly.

The kids all jumped on him with beautifully made cards for Dad, Daddy, Uncle; kisses and hugs. Then it was the turn of the adults.

A handsomely tailored robe from Fleur and Bill ("You have to wear it today 'arry" Fleur remarked, kissing him, "I especially got it made from Paris, ze British don't know the fine art of tailoring." Bill winked at him. Harry grinned back.)

Leather bound muggle classics from Hermione and Ron (Ron pulled down his mouth and Harry had a difficult time holding his laugh. When will Hermione give up?).

A set of beautiful decanter glasses from Charlie and silver picture frames from Percy.

Keys of a Jaguar from Molly and Arthur, and George. (" But no I really I cannot take this," Harry said. "Of course you will. I worked on it for so many months," George insisted, detailing all the improvisations he had made.)

A Firebolt 008 from Ginny. The latest model that had just hit the market.

He looked at the gifts, the happy and pleased faces in front of him. What had he been thinking? This was his family. People who loved him, cared for him, wanted him to be happy.

It was then that Malfoy walked up to him. "Happy Birthday Potter," he said holding out a small box. For a minute, Harry was held speechless. From the silence that had fallen round him, he knew that the others were as astounded as he was. "Er….thank you Malfoy," he said extending his hand to take the gift.

"Don't touch it Harry," Arthur Weasley spoke up sharply. "First let us check whether this box is harmless or not."

Ron had his wand out in a flash. "Put the box on the floor Malfoy."

With a smirk, Malfoy bent and put down the box on the ground. The box throbbed.

"What is in it?" Ron asked.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Malfoy sneered.

Ron cast a series of revealing charms. "It seems to be harmless."

"Ron there might be dark spells." Molly Weasley spoke up.

"Mom the charms that I have cast would have revealed the presence of a Dark object or Dark magic."

"Well you never know with these Malfoys," Molly countered. "Harry dear why don't you cast a few spells?"

Ron's face crumbled. How did it feel to have your own mother doubt your capability?

"I think I'll just open it." He said bending down to pick the box.

"No Harry." Ginny said with alacrity as she leviated the box towards Malfoy. "Take it back. We do not want any gifts from you."

"Has the Boy who Lived turned into a Man who Cringed? Tut ..tut…so much for Gryffindor bravery. Scared of a small box, Potter?" The drawl that the Malfoys seemed to have patented jarred on his ears. Ignoring the horrified cries of No, he snatched the box and opened it. Immediately something smacked him on the nose.

"Ouch," he exclaimed drawing back, clutching his nose as the box fell from his hands. A glittering object whizzed past him.

"Potter you are still the most clumsy chap, I have ever seen." Malfoy was smirking like mad.

"To be clumsy is better than being a coward, Malfoy." Ginny's eyes flashed fire.

"Why are your knickers always in a twist, She-Weasel? Marriage to the Hero who Conquered All not turning out to be nice and bright?"

Ginny turned as red as a beetroot.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry growled. "Don't you dare speak to my wife in this manner?"

"Or else?" There was insolent challenge in Malfoy's face and voice. Harry gritted his teeth.

"_Hear! Hear! Hear! Catch Me oh Dear!_

_And if you do so, I grant you your Heart's De- sire." _

A loud voice spoke up from somewhere above. All of them looked up, a golden snitch, radiating multi-coloured light was hovering near the ceiling.

**6.8**

Draco wondered if the day could become any worse. First of all there had been all that furtive whispering that had given him a head ache. It had transpired that the Pain-who-Lived had his birthday and all this secret planning etc. was for a surprise party. Then the children had to make all those cards and what not. And then there were those comings and goings.

It was then that he realised that he too would have to present something to the Pain also. Salazar, this bond business was turning out to be real trouble. But Pureblooded customs being Pureblooded customs, he took a stock of his possessions. One singed robe, a pair of underpants, and a pair of broken trainers. He wondered whether any Malfoy ever, had found himself in such a state. And though he knew that the history of his family that he had read and digested over the years had been tailored and decorated, he had little doubt that not one of them had been reduced to such a state. He shrugged his shoulders. But that was that and now he had this problem in front of him. And then his eyes had fallen on the gifts that the two Healers had presented him yesterday.

He picked up the quill absently that Healer Khan had given to him along with a sheaf of parchments and a book. A tremble went thru his body. Yesterday too he had tried to control this tremble. Did the other man realise how he had craved for these things in Azkaban? A parchment to write on, a quill to write with, a book to read. Sitting in that dark stinking cell his soul had yearned and cried for anything to put his thoughts upon. He picked up the parchments reverently. He hadn't written anything upon them, afraid to do so. Now he put the quill on the parchment, took a deep breath and wrote the first things that came in his mind. His hand shook and he steadied it with the other hand and wrote. An eternity seemed to pass. It was when he looked down at the splotched words that he realised that tears were splashing down on the parchment.

He quickly wiped away the tears. What a stupid show of sentimentality! Thank Merlin Dragon Weasley was busy with his nephews and nieces and had not noticed anything. He quickly put that particular parchment in the sheaves. Then he looked at the pouch full of galleons that Healer Vasundhra had gifted to him. He had been appalled. But she had insisted.

"_Had circumstances been otherwise Draco, I'd have seen you when you were born. And then I'd have showered you with hugs, kisses, toys, and what not. But today I can only offer you this. Please do not say no."_

He took out a couple of galleons. Of course, he could buy Potter a gift. But from where? Who would get anything for him? Should he ask Dragon Weasley? But the other man had remained frigidly silent since his comment about beasts and half-breeds yesterday. Though what was wrong with that he couldn't guess. He looked up. The cub was busy drawing something on a parchment, his tongue out with the effort. Son of that mangy, moth-eaten werewolf. How revolting.

With an effort, he turned his mind to the problem at hand. What was he to give to that Scar Head? A sheaf of parchment with a message. Never. He wasn't going to waste anything so precious on Potter. He looked at the galleons in his hand. Yes, he could give those. But he would have to transfigure them. Should he make a finger-biting ring or a hand-scalding glove? No way. He was a Malfoy. He would not stoop to such tacky tactics. SO WHAT SHOULD HE GIVE THAT BIG PAIN? And then it struck him and he smiled. Yes an ideal gift. But he had not attempted it before. Will he be able to manage without a wand? It was well worth a try anyways. He clutched the coins in his hand and concentrated hard. Slowly, the transfiguration began…..

And now he watched the Snitch hovering over them all. Nobody had been able to catch it as yet. The party was in full swing. He looked at them all. Faces that he hadn't seen for a long long time. People whom he had forgotten. And now they were all here. Longbottoms and Boots. Patils and Finnegans. Browns and Woods. Mudbloods, Halfbloods, Blood Traitors and what not. And he forced to sit amongst them because of course the Big Pain's even Bigger Pain wanted to be here.

A hush had fallen when he had first entered the room. Then of course the whispers had started and the furtive glances. He had no illusions about how he looked. A skeletal, pasty coloured pale face framed by rough, shaggy hair. Sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. A robe that hung on his frame. Hands rough and calloused and one hand adorned by that letter. Trainers so worn out that a couple of toes peeked out. With such an appearance to become the cynosure of all eyes! Merlin help him! Once again he thanked Father for that training to make one's face impassive. The trademark Malfoy sneer was plastered on his face, as he held a glass of juice so that he would not look so out of place. The tables laden with a vast array of dishes that he will not taste because Azkaban had conditioned his system not to have more than one meal in the day. And he wasn't going to break this, thank you very much. Tomorrow he might be out on the streets and he did not want his stomach crying out for food.

A loud guffaw broke him from his reverie. Finnegan, pretty drunk now, was telling something apparently very funny. Those near him were all doubled with laughter. He could recognise a few. Longbottom, Bones, Potter, Weasel. Where were Pansy and Daphne; Zabini and Nott; Greg and Vince….no..no of course not no Vince. Why is that he could never think of one without the other? Something constricted in his chest.

He had started his life with most of those who were present here. Why was it that today he found himself in such a state? His grades had been so good too. But today they were Healers and Aurors; Artists and Ministry officials; Journalists and Unspeakables. And he, he had been unable to even finish his schooling. He looked at them resplendent in their robes while he was wearing clothes that even the elves at the Manor would not want. When had life taken such a turn that these scums of the earth were enjoying themselves today oozing confidence and assurance while he slinked in the background hoping for somebody to nox the muggle lumos?

"' _I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer…'"_

Something clutched his chest so strongly that he could not breathe. He put his fist in his mouth and bit hard, not letting the scream escape. He had to get out of here before he came apart at the seams and disgraced the Malfoy name for ever. Quickly, he made his way out of the room. He sank down on the bed, the fist still in his mouth and bleeding profusely. The weight on his chest was immense. He had to get out of this state quickly. He picked up the book with the other hand and opened it randomly. For a few seconds his eyes flitted over the words blindly. But then the words began to sink in. He recognized the poem now. It was written by a squib his father had told him about.

"_**I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.**_

_**I do not think they will sing to me."**_

The book fell down from his hand.

Somewhere he could hear screams. No wonder he was unable to hear the song of the mermaids. If only they all would shut up.

"You bastard."

He looked up. Potter was standing in the doorway, his wand pointing straight at him. "How dare you leave Albus like this?"

Albus. But Albus had gone over the parapet. The Mudblood was next to Potter holding a convulsing child in her hand.

"Achage." A grey light shot from Potter's wand and hit him squarely on the chest.

"HARRY, NO…NO." He heard the mudblood scream as he twisted in anguish.

"Merlin Harry what have you done!! LOOK AT ALBUS. FINISH THE SPELL FOR GOD'S SAKE."

He knew who Albus was. He felt once again the odd tug that he had felt in his chest during the unbonding Somehow it was important to reach him. But there were so many of them now. He felt suffocated. Falling down from the bed, he crawled, biting at the ankles of the people crowding round the little figure that was held in somebody's arms. They yelped but moved out of his way. He reached that little figure. He ran his hands over that small body. The song rose on his lips unbidden.

Eyes opened. Green eyes looked at him.

Draco closed his eyes.

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A/N: So that's it. Do let me know what you think of this.

Thanks to **mandraco, darkshadowarchfiend, kaillinne arami, Ignus, Songbird Severine, Jay FicLover, Angel-o-Darkness, Cory Ander, **and** Azure Rose** for their encouraging reviews.

The lines are from T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock".

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